


Million Dollar Angel

by JotItDown



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Slavery, Canon-Typical Violence, Collars, Corporal Punishment, Dean Winchester is Bad at Feelings, Flashbacks, Hurt Castiel, Hurt/Comfort, I'm Serious This Has Plot, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, M/M, Master Dean Winchester, Master Sam Winchester, Master/Slave, Medical Procedures, Medical Trauma, Minor Character Death, Non-Consensual Bondage, Plot, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Dean Winchester, Protective Sam Winchester, Public Humiliation, Rape Aftermath, Sex Slave Castiel (Supernatural), Slave Castiel, Spells & Enchantments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-20
Updated: 2019-05-06
Packaged: 2019-09-22 13:03:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 34
Words: 115,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17060291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JotItDown/pseuds/JotItDown
Summary: When Sam impulsively buys a used sex slave at an auction for a million dollars, Dean seriously considers fratricide.  Yeah Sammy's a die-hard abolitionist who only bought the guy to keep him from Magnus, but a million bucks?!  Things get a bit better when they figure out the slave is actually an angel, complete with a spell book full of commands.  But the commands are mostly freaky sex stuff, and the slave is determined to resist.  That's why he's been sold so many times that he's now been banned from three major auction houses.  Dean can't even sell the stubborn bastard and get some of his money back.  Son of a bitch.





	1. The Slave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam meets an unusual slave at an auction where he and Dean are meeting with Magnus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, let's try this again. Got the idea for this at an estate auction because this is the kind of shit that goes through my head while the wife is spending our money on antiques and I'm bored shitless, I guess (who the fuck thinks antiquing is a good time?! Give a guy a break!). I generally reply to all comments because it seems like the polite thing to do, but I'm not a writer. Fair warning. I didn't start posting until I had a good idea of where I was going with this so it will be finished. Just don't expect a regular posting schedule, especially once I'm back to work on my regular schedule. Sub if you like it and enjoy the ride.

            “You dropped this.”

            Those were the three simple words that changed Sam’s life forever.  Spoken in a low voice by a male slave who’d looked at him so strangely that it made Sam pause where normally he wouldn’t look twice.  The slave wore a thick engraved metal collar and the drab grey clothing that matched the other slaves.  His wrists were caught in heavy metal manacles that were also engraved.  A six inch length of chain connected the manacles, severely restricting the use of his hands.  He was the last in a dwindling line, his collar attached to a communal chain that drew them forward towards the auction block.  To pick up the paddle, he must have nearly choked himself.

            Normally, Sam would have taken the paddle back and moved away, not making eye contact, unable to bear the sight of a human being treated as livestock.  Sam was an abolitionist.  The practice of slavery was widely accepted, but he found it abhorrent.  Given their personal history, neither he nor his brother could be comfortable at a slave auction, even a high-priced fancy black tie affair like this one.  The Kansas City auction house boasted only the finest of “merchandise,” selling slaves for high prices to rich douche bags.  He and Dean had been forced to do some fast talking, as well as a number of marginally legal or outright illegal things in order to boost their bank account to the point where they were even allowed in.  And they certainly hadn’t come for the auction!  All this time, Sam had been doing his best to pretend it wasn’t happening, that human beings weren’t being sold off like cattle to the highest bidder at the front of the room while people in formal wear milled about drinking champagne and sampling hors d'oeuvres.  But something about this slave made Sam pause.  Maybe it was the way the slave looked him right in the eye, when slaves weren’t supposed to make eye contact.  Maybe it was the deep, raspy voice.  But later, when Dean had stormed off and Sam finally had time to consider his actions, he’d decided it was the slave’s eyes.  They were a deep blue, and somehow, they seemed to radiate a sort of ageless power.  The slave’s voice had been demure, but those eyes were anything but.  There was a fire there, a challenge that belied the man’s status as a slave about to go on the auction block and be sold to the highest bidder.  Sam hadn’t been able to tear his own away.  He’d accepted the bidding paddle that had apparently fallen, forgotten, out of his pocket.  Then the chain tightened and the slave was jerked back with a cry.  “Stop!  I’m coming, you don’t have to drag me!”

            “Quit struggling and get over here!”  The auctioneer’s assistant was pulling the stumbling slave back by the chain on his collar.  His eyes fell on Sam.  “Sorry about this one, sir.  He’s willful, but nothing a firm hand can’t beat out of him.  Young, strong, healthy, and damned pretty if you don’t mind me saying so.  Good buy!”

            Sam’s jaw dropped.  He was saved from having to answer by Dean seizing his arm and jerking him aside.  “Sam!” he hissed.  “Would you pay attention?”

            “Sorry,” Sam whispered back.

            “Look, I don’t want to be here anymore than you do,” Dean grumbled.  “It’s making my skin crawl!  But we have a job to do, ok?  I told you, don’t look at them.  At least now they’re clothed, right?”

            Right.  When he and Dean had first entered the auction house, the slaves were all naked, being held in tiny cages for inspection, their hands chained above their heads.  They could stand and turn a little, but could do nothing to cover themselves. Prospective buyers had been swarming around them, poking, prodding, even openly groping them through the bars, commenting on their appearance and possible bid prices.  It had been all Sam could do to keep from throwing up.

            Dean, he knew, certainly hadn’t enjoyed himself, but he hadn’t been nearly as upset as Sam.  Still, Sam knew Dean had been very uncomfortable.  Of course, that was precisely what Magnus wanted.  The elusive magician had intentionally requested that the brothers meet with him here specifically to make them uncomfortable.

            “What guarantee do we have that you won’t use this thing on some poor sap?” Dean was asking.

            “None,” Magnus told him gruffly.  “Except one.  I am a collector of the rare and arcane.  This lovely little item is one of a kind, but it has very little power left. If used, it will quickly become powerless and therefore of no value to me.  That is why I will never use it.  It will have a prominent place in my collection, safe and sound and out of sight to anyone who might want it for nefarious purposes.”

            “And you’ll take the curse off of Sammy?”

            “I can do that right now, as a token of good will!”  Magnus reached over, touched the cursed bracelet that no means the brothers had been able to discover had been able to get off of Sam’s arm, and chanted.  Sam breathed a sigh of relief when it fell off of his arm and into the magician’s waiting hand.  Already, he could feel his strength returning, the bracelet that had been slowly draining his life energy now being tucked away into the magician’s pocket.  “I’ll keep this, and call it even.”

            “I’ll call it thievery,” Dean growled.  He quickly dug into Magnus’s pocket and retrieved the bracelet.  “We never said you could keep this!  The deal was for the shield.  You want the bracelet, and you’re going to have to pay for it!”

            “As you wish.  What’s your price?”

            “A million dollars,” Sam announced before Dean could say anything.  No way Magnus would agree to that.

            “Deal!”

            The brothers stared at him with identical expressions of stunned disbelief as the magician got on his phone and quickly transferred money to their account.  A moment later, Sam’s phone beeped as the transfer went through.  Dean made a small noise.  He’d never seen a number even remotely that high in any account he could access in all of their lives.  Sam could practically hear the gears grinding in his brother’s head as Dean began mentally spending the money and cleared his throat.  “Ok!  Gad we could do business.  Now let’s talk about the shield.”

            That wasn’t enough to bring Dean’s head back into the game, but a quick stomp on his foot was.  Dean got into the padded case he’d carried and produced the wrapped shield. “Athena’s shield,” he announced. “Bearing the image of the head of Medusa.  We were able to look at it safely through a picture.  The image is pretty faded, but it’s there.”

            Sam produced the color print and handed it over. “Snake hair and all.  I gotta say, I have a whole new appreciation for Perseus after seeing that thing!”

            “Indeed!”

            “You get this, you lock it up,” Dean ordered with a low growl.  “But first you let Garth and Benny go.  We get a call from them that they’re safe and sound, and you get the shield.  But not before!”

            “Of course!” Magnus sent a quick text.  A moment later, Sammy’s phone rang.  He visibly relaxed at the sound of the werewolf and the vampire’s voice, nodding at Dean.

            Dean replaced the shield in the case and handed it over with obvious reluctance.  “Just so you know?  If you ever touch one of our friends again, or curse another one of us?  We will come after you.  And nothing in all of your magic is going to keep us from ganking your ass!”

            “I am well aware of your reputation, gentlemen,” Magnus said cheerfully.  “Considering that this shield was stolen from my collection in the first place, I’d have to say I have been more than generous.  Now if you’ll excuse me, I have one more order of business to attend to.”

            Sam heard shouting from the front of the room and looked up to see the blue-eyed slave from before.  The slave was being dragged onto the auction block by the chain at his neck, and he was furious.  He struggled and dug in his heels, pulling hard on the chain.  “Stop dragging me!  There’s no point in selling me again.  I have already been sold five times in the past three years and they’ve all brought me back and sold me again for less than they paid for me!  This cycle is pointless!  Just kill me!”

            Sam’s eyes widened.  Five times in three years?  And the fact that the slave wanted to die struck a chord as well. Sam’s attention fixed on the slave, who continued to struggle until the irritated assistant finally struck him with a cattle prod.  The slave cried out and was dragged forward and forced onto his knees, panting.

            The auctioneer apparently was going to pretend the slave hadn’t said a word.  “Our final auction of the night is this healthy Caucasian male, age estimated at mid twenties.  He is an intact male with clean blood tests and all natural teeth.”

            It was yet another example of how sick the slave trade really was, this not-so-subtle hint that this man could be safely used for sex.  The auctioneer had said something similar for every poor soul that had been dragged to the auction block tonight.  But Sam noticed the auctioneer’s slight nod, and caught Magnus’s answering nod in return. He stiffened and caught Dean’s arm as his brother got up and started towards the exit.  Something was up.

            “Due to the special circumstances surrounding this particular auction, the minimum bid will be $300,000, and only bids equal to or greater than $50,000 increments will be accepted.  Do I hear three-hundred?  Yes, three-hundred, do I hear three-fifty?  Three-fifty from the lady in the back, how about four-hundred?”

            Magnus’s paddle went up.  Now Sam was frowning.  He’d been doing his best not to pay attention to the auction itself, but he knew that this was a high, very high, bid compared to the prices the other slaves had been sold for tonight, especially for a slave who’d been sold five times!  And each time, his new owner had sold him again, for less than what he’d gone for originally?  That didn’t seem to bode well for whoever bought this slave tonight.  Yet Magnus continued to bid, now in a bidding war with the woman in the back.

            Dean was pulling away, his eyes fixed on the exit. “Sam, let’s get the hell out of here! I got big plans!”

            “Dean, something’s up,” Sam insisted.  “Magnus has been here this whole time and hasn’t bid on a single slave.  Now he’s bidding hundreds of thousands of dollars on this one guy?  Listen, I saw that slave earlier, and I noticed markings on his collar and his manacles.  I should have paid more attention, but I think they were runes.  And the way the auctioneer nodded at Magnus when the bidding started?  Whatever that guy is, he’s not human!  He’s a monster of some kind, and Magnus is trying to buy him!”

            “Yeah, Sam, he’s an asshole with a zoo, now let’s get out of here and celebrate the fact that we’re millionaires!”

            The slave wasn’t struggling or protesting now. As the bids continued to rise, he’d simply slumped, resigned, with a sour expression on his face as he waited to be sold.  Sam leaned close to Magnus.  “Why do you want him?  What’s so special about this guy?”

            “What does it matter?”  The magician didn’t take his eyes off of the slave.  “My business is my own.”

            “Because if he’s a monster, I want to know he won’t be sent after us!”

            “This has nothing to do with you, Winchester!  I’m simply purchasing a slave for my own pleasure. Now be gone, and leave me to my business!”  Magnus raised his paddle for another bid.

            “We have an offer of $950,000 from Mr. Magnus!” the auctioneer announced.  “And the lady in the back is shaking her head.  Do I have any other bids?”

            Looking back, Sam wasn’t sure why he’d done it. But he’d reached into his pockets, jammed the barrel of his hidden pistol into Magnus’s side with one hand, and used the other to raise his paddle.  “One million!”

            Dean made a strangled sound.

            “One million from the long-haired gentleman with Mr. Magnus.  Mr. Magnus?”

            “Keep your mouth shut and your paddle down,” Sam ordered quietly, not looking at his brother.

            Magnus was red-faced and furious.  But he wisely said nothing.

            “Any other bids?  Sold for one million dollars!  That concludes our auction tonight, ladies and gentlemen!  Good night, and we hope to see you again soon for our next offering.”

            The slave was being dragged away now, and he was fighting just as hard as he’d fought being dragged to the block.  But the hopeless expression on his face made Sam’s heart ache.

            Dean had Sam by the arm, dragging him away from Magnus, who quickly muttered something and vanished.  Sam swore, then forgot Magnus as his brother grabbed his shoulders and gave him a harsh shake.  “The next offering may just include you!” Dean was exclaiming. “Except there’s no way you’d go for anywhere near a million bucks!  Sammy, what the hell were you thinking?!  You’re all anti-slavery and it’s such a sick practice, and then you turn around and spend a million bucks on one slave?!”

            “He’s a monster,” Sam replied weakly.  “I had to keep Magnus from getting him.  And he could be useful!  He could, um, help us on hunts, watch our backs, maybe be a guard dog for the bunker?”

            Dean was looking at him with outright murder in his eyes.  “A million dollars, Sammy.  A million! We could have bought an actual guard dog, fixed up Baby as good as new, decked out the bunker, hell, we could have just retired altogether and bought ourselves a beach house in Acapulco! Instead, less than five minutes before we get to touch a penny, you burned it all on a slave that’s maybe a monster and is more likely to want to eat us than protect us!”

            “Mr. Winchester?”  It was one of the auction attendants.  “Your slave has been sedated and is unconscious and ready for you.  It should wear off in about three hours. Here is your certificate of ownership from our auction house.  If you’ll just sign here please?  Thank you. We’ll keep the copy, the original is yours.”  She paused. “I’ve been asked to instruct you that, should you desire to sell your slave, we will not be accepting him back.”

            “Um, what?”  Now Dean was paying attention.

            “That’s fine,” Sam said quickly.  “We understand.”

            “Excellent.  Here are the keys to his chains.  If you’ll bring your vehicle up, we’ll bring out your property.”

            “Awesome,” Dean groaned, finally letting go of Sam. “I’ll drive us home, and then we’ll try to figure out a way we can get a million bucks out of this guy when we can’t even bring him back here and sell him.  Any trouble he causes is on your head, Sammy!”

            The assistant laughed.  “Oh, he won’t cause you any trouble if you use this.”

            Sam accepted a small leather-bound book. “What’s this?”

            She gave him a puzzled look.  “The special circumstances that the auctioneer mentioned. Since you bought this particular slave, you know about them, right?”

            “Oh!” Sam exclaimed.  “Right!  Um, thank you, and yes, we’ll bring our vehicle right around.”

            “Of course.  Have a good evening.”

            Dean was already storming out.  Sam followed, frowning as he glanced through the book. “Dean?  I think these are a series of spells!”

            “Not.  Now.” Dean looked ready to explode.  Sam wisely closed his mouth.

            They pulled the Impala up to the curb.  Dean didn’t say a word, just stared straight ahead with his hands tightly gripping the wheel as Sam opened the back door and instructed the attendants to load the unconscious slave into the back seat. Sam got him adjusted, managed to use the seat belts to keep him from rolling off the seat and climbed into the passenger seat.  “I’ll carry him in when we get back,” he said quietly.

            “Damned right you will!” Dean snarled, pulling away with an angry squeal of rubber.  “I cannot believe you just spent a million bucks on a slave!”


	2. Control

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back at the bunker, the brothers try to figure out what, exactly, they've just bought, but their new slave proves to be more than they bargained for.

            Sam carried the slave into one of the empty rooms and gently put him down on one of the beds.  Unconscious, the slave seemed every inch a normal human.  His limp body was solid and heavy in Sam’s arms as he was carried.  But there was no doubt those were runes on his collar and manacles.  If their complexity was any indication, the runes were powerful.  Whatever this save was, he must have been difficult to contain.  No wonder he’d sold for a million dollars.  Sam traced his fingers over the elaborate markings on the collar, lifted up one of the slave’s arms and examined the runes on the manacles at his wrists.  This, he realized, was powerful magic.  What, exactly, was this slave?  Sam reached into his pocket, fingering the key.  No, he decided.  Until they at least knew what the slave actually was, it wasn’t safe to just let him go.  But he didn’t want to completely confine the slave, either, which meant he didn’t want to chain the slave to the bed.  Sam compromised by leaving the chains in place but not attaching the lead on the slave’s collar to anything and leaving the door open a crack.  There.  When the slave woke up in a couple of hours, he could wander out on his own and meet with them on a more even playing field.  Satisfied, Sam left the slave to sleep off the drugs.  He made himself a quick sandwich and poured a drink.  Then he went out to join his brother.

            Dean was sitting at the table, silently drinking a beer and glaring at Sam.  Sam was careful to avoid looking at him.  “How’s your million dollar slave?” Dean growled.

            “Fine.  Still unconscious, but he should be out for a couple more hours.”  Sam sat at the table and looked at the slave’s book.  “Near as I can tell, these are commands,” he said. “I don’t know the language the commands are in, but there’s pictures here to indicate what they do.  I think it’s meant to be understood no matter what language his eventual owner might speak.  I guess that’s a good idea, especially since he’s already been sold five times.”

            “He’s already been sold five times?!” Dean exclaimed. He clearly hadn’t been paying attention at the auction.  “And you knew this before you blew our million bucks on him?  Great.  That’s just great, Sammy.”

            Sam chose to ignore him.  “I think I know why Magnus wanted him.  He’s got some fairly elaborate runes on his collar and his manacles, so I’m thinking he’s powerful.  And if this is how we command him, he absolutely is!  I’ve never heard of a slave that couldn’t be magically compelled to obey just from a collar.”

            “And our slave has a collar, manacles, and a book! That’s just perfect.  This thing ever gets loose, we’re both dead, aren’t we?”

            Sam continued to ignore him.  “This picture has a kneeling stick figure, so I guess it’s the command to make him kneel.  Then this one has a smiley face with a gag over its mouth, so I suppose it means ‘quiet.’  And this one...”

            “Anything in that book to tell us what the hell he actually is?”

            “Well, no, not yet.  But the list of commands is surprisingly long.  There’s a lot that seem to indicate various body positions, although I’m not sure what those are...  Oh.” Sam winced, his eyes on the figures of stick figures obviously performing various sexual acts.  “Yeah, it’s a little too complete.  This is pretty sick, Dean.  At least one of those five owners must have used him as a sex slave.”

            “And the hits keep coming.  You bought a used sex slave that’s already been sold five times.” Dean leaned forward, enunciating his words.  “For One. Million.  Dollars!”

            “Dean, Magnus wanted him, and I couldn’t let him have him,” Sam sighed.

            “So we sell Magnus his monster sex slave, get our money back and maybe a bit more once we find out what he is!  Then we steal him back and gank Magnus before he turns you into a newt.  And then we make a pact to never, ever again spend a million bucks for...”  His voice trailed off.  “Looks like your friend’s awake, Sammy.”

            Sam looked up in surprise.  Based on the timeline he’d been given at the auction, the slave should still be under the effects of the drugs they’d given him for at least two more hours.  But sure enough, a wary blue eye was peeking around the corner from beneath a head of messy dark hair.  “Hey!” Sam called, quickly getting up with a smile.  “I...”

            The eye vanished as the figure ducked back around the corner, followed by the sound of bare feet running down the hall.

            “Don’t look at me,” Dean called.  “I ain’t chasing him!”

            “Actually, that might be the best idea,” Sam said, sinking back into his chair.  “Neither one of us should chase him.  He’s obviously scared to death.  Maybe it’s best if we just let him come to us?”

            “Yeah, why not?” Dean grunted.  “Bunker’s only got one door, and we’ll see it if he tries to use it.  The armory and the library are locked.  Of course he could still get into the kitchen and come after us with a steak knife, a rolling pin, or even a cheese grater, but that’s nothing to worry about, right? I mean, we don’t even know what he is! Who cares if he might just sneak up on us and sink his fangs while we’re sleeping?”

            That earned him Sammy’s bitch face.  “Dean?  He’s a collared slave!  The runes on his collar prevent him from directly attacking us.  You know that!”

            “But he could still indirectly attack us, can’t he? He could set up booby traps, or arrange little ‘accidents’ that just happen to end up with one or both of us dead, right?  I know how magical bindings work!  Look, Sammy, you need to get over your bleeding heart here.  That’s our slave now, and he’s running loose through the bunker, most likely looking for a weapon of some sort.  We need to get him back here and make him understand he belongs to us and we’re his masters now.”

            “Dean, come on!”

            “No, you come on, because if we don’t get our slave under control now, especially if he really is a monster?  Then how the hell can we hope to control him later? Look, if you don’t want to chase him, fine.  Because there’s no need to!  I’m betting that there’s something in that book for ‘come,’ right?  So just use it and call him back in here!”

            Sam sputtered.  “Dean, I am not going to command him!  You know I don’t believe in slavery!”

            “Said the guy who just bought a sex slave for a million bucks!  Fine, give me the damned book and I’ll do it.”  Dean irritably snatched the book from Sam’s hands, ignoring Sam’s protests, and looked through it.  “Ok, picture of kneeling guy with an arrow pointing to standing guy, this must be it.” Dean carefully pronounced the words next to the drawing.

            There was a sound like fluttering wings, and suddenly the slave was there, kneeling before them.  He’d taken the chain at his collar and wrapped it around himself, tucking the end in like a belt.  That explained why it hadn’t rattled to warn them when the slave was first in the hall. He stayed as he was, his head bowed and hands on his thighs in the perfect posture of submission, but his body was shaking.

            “Huh!” Dean called.  “Guess he really is a monster!”

            “Don’t be scared,” Sam called, shooting an accusing look at Dean.  He reached out a reassuring hand and put it on the trembling slave’s shoulder.  “I’m Sam Winchester, and this is my brother Dean. What’s your name?”

            The slave broke position with a gasp.  His eyes went wide in panic as he scrambled to his feet, turning to run again.

            “No, you don’t!” Dean called, grabbing the slave’s chain.

            The slave reached the end of his chain and was brought up sharply.  His body turned a bit as the chain unraveled.  He gagged, his still-manacled hands clutching at the chain, pulling with all his strength even as the collar dug into his neck.  “No, don’t hurt me!  Leave me alone!”

            “Hey, hey, it’s ok!” Sam called, rising and holding up his empty hands. 

            The slave thrashed.  “Let me go!”

            “Not a chance!”

            “We’re not going to hurt you!  Just don’t run.  We only want to talk to you.”

            The slave pulled hard on the chain.  “You’re choking me!”

            “Dean!”

            “I’m not choking him!” Dean defended.  “I’m just holding onto the chain, he’s the one pulling!”

            “Dean, he’s terrified!  Let him go!”

            “Fine.  He runs, you’re chasing him.”  Dean let go of the chain, and the slave went sprawling backwards.

            The slave quickly dragged his chain out of their reach, wrapping it once more around his waist.  He narrowed his eyes, looking from one brother to the other.  His eyes rested for a long moment on Dean, a curious expression crossing his face.  Then he got to his feet and raised his manacled hands.  “Let me go.  I can do you no harm.  There is no need to confine me like this!  Release me!”

            “Sure, once you earn back a million bucks,” Dean grumbled.

            Sam flashed him the bitch face before returning to the slave with a smile.  “Will you tell us your name?”

            “No!”

            Sam blinked in surprise.  “Right.  Ok, it’s pretty obvious that you’re not human.  So why don’t you tell us what you actually are, so we can at least know how to take care of you?”

            “How to hurt me, you mean?” the slave snapped. “How to control me?  How far you can go without killing me?!  I heard you call me a sex slave, but I’m not!  I don’t care what spells you have in that book. I will never submit to that!  If you touch me, know that I will fight you every step of the way!  I will not be forced to pleasure you!  None of my owners has ever succeeded in raping me, not without tying me down first!”

            Now both brothers were raising eyebrows at him. “Dude, I’m sorry about that,” Dean sighed.  “I was pissy and didn’t realize you were there.  We’re not going to hurt you, and we’re sure as hell not interested in a sex slave, ok?”

            The slave cocked his head, ignoring Dean for the moment in favor of frowning at Sam.  “I thought you were different,” he said.  “I saw you at the auction, and you seemed ill at ease.  You wouldn’t look at any slaves, and even though you held a bid paddle, you didn’t bid.  I thought you didn’t approve of what was happening, that you didn’t want to be there. I thought you were only there with him.” He indicated Dean with a jerk of his head.  “But then you bought me!  Why? Why did you want me?”  He indicated the runes at his wrists and throat. “You know I’m not human, but my powers are all locked down.  I’m not meant to be used as a gladiator.  I know exactly what I was intended to be, what the commands in that book are meant to force me to do.  Everyone who has ever bought me has told me over and over that I am good for only one thing.  So what could you possibly want from me, if you aren’t going to use me as a sex slave?”

            Sam sighed.  “I don’t want anything from you, alright?  I just couldn’t let Magnus have you!”

            “I see.”  The slave had set his jaw and was glowering at Sam now.  “So you only bought me to spite a rival.  How quaint.”

            “Wow, you are a grade A douchebag, aren’t you?” Dean noted.

            Cold blue eyes fixed on Dean.  “So sorry, but I find being dragged onto an auction stage, sold to a stranger, rendered unconscious, waking up in a strange place still in chains and then being magically compelled to come and kneel before you does little to invite my hospitality.”

            “You kind of earned that, Dean.”

            “Shut up!”

            Sam ignored him.  “Alright, how’s this?”  He reached into a pocket and produced a key.  “Until we get to know and trust each other, I’m afraid I don’t dare let you go completely.  Those runes on your collar prevent you from directly attacking us, but I’m fairly certain you could find a way to hurt us anyway if you wanted to.”

            “Several!” the slave spat.

            “I’m sure.  But if you’ll promise not to try to harm us, I’ll let your hands free, at least. How’s that sound?”

            Again, the tilt of the head and the squint of the eyes as the slave considered Sam.  “I’ll give you my word that I won’t hurt either of you unprovoked.  But I won’t let you hurt me, either!  I will defend myself as much as the sigils allow, and I’ll make you pay if you hurt me!”

            Sam nodded.  “That’s fair.  If we’re intentionally hurting you, we deserve it.”

            That seemed to surprise the slave.  He was squinting at Sam in confusion.  But he said nothing.  The slave held out his manacled hands.  “Then you have my word.  Please release me.”

            Sam quickly inserted the key into the slot on the slave’s right wrist.  But instead of the manacle opening, the chain simply popped loose.  Sam frowned, tried the left manacle, and the short length of chain that had secured the slave’s hands fell to the floor, leaving the manacles in place.  The slave sighed and rolled the stiffness out of his shoulders.  “Thank you.  I have been chained for days now.  It’s a relief to be able to move freely again.”

            “You’re welcome, but I don’t understand,” Sam said, pocketing the key and picking up the short length of chain.  “How do I get those manacles off of your wrists?”

            The slave blinked at him, surprised.  “You really have no idea what I am, do you?”

            “Um, no?”

            The slave scoffed.  “I should have realized.  It’s clear you have no real idea how to command me, and only a fool wouldn’t realize that, without the manacles to further restrict my power, the collar wouldn’t be powerful enough to control me!”

            “You’ve got to be the mouthiest slave I’ve ever met,” Dean complained.

            “I’m not interested in controlling you,” Sam argued, kicking Dean under the table.  “I’d like to know how to take them off.”

            “If there was a way to get them off, I assure you, I would have freed myself by now!”

            “Dude, seriously, why do you have to be such a prick?” Dean asked.  “We told you our names, we let your hands loose, which is something I seriously hope you do not make us regret later, and we told you we’re not going to hurt you. So how about you give a little and tell us your name and what you are?”

            The slave seemed to consider this.  After a moment’s thought, he nodded.  “Castiel,” he said.  “I’m an angel of the Lord.”

            The brothers froze, staring.  They looked at each other, and then back at the slave. “Bullshit,” Dean announced.

            “It’s not that we don’t believe you,” Sam called quickly, seeing the slave’s expression darken in anger.  “It’s just, an angel?  How does an angel end up a slave?”

            “When he’s hurt and he’s stumbled over in a weakened state by someone with enough understanding of what he is to trap him,” Castiel growled.  “The things that I have been subjected to since that day are not fit for demons!  I have been trapped and compelled to obey, restrained and controlled and beaten and raped and used and demeaned for three years now.  But I will not be broken!  Already, two prominent auction houses have refused to take me back.  The last time I was sold, my new master saw me struggling against my owner when I was brought to the auction house, and that’s why he wanted to buy me.  Apparently, he likes his slaves to be a bit resistant.  I suspect that’s why he is the owner who kept me the longest.”  He scoffed.  “He was quite determined to break me, but in the end, he finally tired of me and took me to the auction house to be sold.  You’ll sell me far sooner, I’d wager.  The longest anyone has kept me has been three months.  I’ll be surprised if you keep me for two weeks!”

            Shocked silence from the brothers.  The slave shook his head in disgust.  “You had no idea what you were doing when you bought me, did you?  Do you believe that book gives you the ability to control me?  Six others have tried before you, six who knew exactly what I was.  Yet despite all of the commands they were able to force on me, the fact that I still resisted them with all my strength was something they wouldn’t tolerate for long. You should know, I will never stop fighting you.  Command me as you wish, but I will never submit meekly to your will.  I will continue to fight and resist until you sell me again or end me!”  He snorted. “A million dollars?  That is far and away the lowest I have ever been sold for. My first auction, I sold for seven million!  But word is spreading.  No one wants an angel slave that cannot be controlled.  Every time, I’m sold for less and less, and now I’m only worth a mere million.  I guarantee the auction house where you bought me will not take me back again. You’re probably better to just kill me before I find a way to kill you.  Because one way or another, I will be free from you!”

            “Great speech,” Dean called.  “Sammy, I’ll admit I was against this little investment of yours, but now I have to tell you, the idea of having a murderous angel at my back? That’s totally worth a million bucks!”

            “Dean!”

            “Come on, Sam!  This guy’s not human, but he sure as hell isn’t an angel!  Where’s his wings, huh?”

            “I can’t open them,” Castiel explained with obviously-forced patience.  “The binding spells on the collar and manacles prevent me from accessing any of my powers unless I am commanded.  I can’t fly.  I can’t even heal myself when you hurt me!”

            “Yeah, but what about your strength?” Dean challenged. “I thought angels were supposed to be these massive, powerful dudes, but you were just fighting tooth and nail on the end of that chain and I could keep you here no problem!”

            “This is a vessel,” Castiel said, indicating his body.  “My true form is the size of your Chrysler building.  And yes, the sigils lock away my strength, too.  I’m not even as strong as my vessel would be, because it amused my first owner to be able to easily overpower me.  So if you want to access any of my powers, you’re going to have to command me.”

            “Ok, let’s give it a whirl!”

            “Dean!” Sam protested.

            “No, Sammy, if Cas here is an angel, then let’s see his wings!  Oh!” Dean’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Check it out, there’s a picture of a set of wings!  Dude, if he’s really an angel, that is going to rock and suck so much, all at the exact same time!  We’re never going to be able to trust him, but, holy shit, we’d own an angel!  I have got to see these wings!”  Dean chanted something in the strange language.

            Immediately, a set of massive black wings expanded from the slave’s back.  Castiel sighed, stretching them out at full arch.  “Nice to be able to stretch them, thank you.”

            Sam was leaning on the table for support, but Dean had leaped to his feet, eyes wide with excitement.  “Awesome!  Let me see... Hey!”

            Castiel’s wing jerked away from Dean’s hand and vanished. “Leave me alone.”

            “What?  Bring them back out!  I want to see them!”

            The angel crossed his arms stubbornly over his chest.  “No.”

            “Come on, dude!  I just want to touch them.”

            “I said no.  Leave me alone.”

            Dean scowled.  “Cas, you’re our slave, remember?  You don’t make the rules, we do!  Now open those wings, or I’ll just read that spell thing and bring them back out again!”

            “As you wish.”

            Sam did not like the angry gleam in the angel’s eyes.  “Um, Dean, maybe we should...?”

            “Sammy, did you not see those things?!  That was the coolest thing I have ever seen, and I am going to touch them!”  Dean found the spell, quickly read it again, and raced eagerly forward when the wings once more appeared.

            Castiel rapidly moved back, and the wings vanished seconds after they appeared.  “I said no!”

            “Aw, come on!  Sammy what am I doing wrong here?  How the hell do I make him keep them out long enough to touch them?”

            The angel gave a mocking laugh.  “Don’t you get it?  The spell compels me to open my wings on this plane, but it cannot force me to keep them there.  You’ll find the same sort of issue with every command in that book.  You can force me to do anything there, but there is no set duration.  And that is why no one will ever truly command me!  Now leave me alone!”  Castiel turned on his heel and stormed out of the room.

            Dean and Sam exchanged a look.  Then Dean groaned.  “Son of a bitch!”


	3. Unwilling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Castiel butt heads, and Sam is caught in the middle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The greatest thing happened to me tonight. I had all this content written up and I've been struggling with it and looking at this plot thinking there was no way I could actually pull this off. I was actually considering just deleting this story altogether, stop trying to pretend to be a writer and go back to just reading, you know? But then some moron who doesn't even have the spine to get an actual account to troll me with posted five different trolling comments on my other story. And after I got done laughing? I decided that yes, I'm going to finish this story. I have a real live troll of my very own! I've never felt so flattered in my life! Thx, love you!

            It became a battle of wills.  Dean was determined to touch Castiel’s wings and was willing to fight dirty.  He refused to leave the angel alone, calling his wings out again and again, using various other commands to try to force Castiel into compliance.  Castiel was every bit as determined.  Finding himself summoned and then forced onto his hands and knees out in the mud, Castiel calmly walked back inside and, still covered in mud, climbed into Dean’s bed. Sam had found himself caught in the middle.  But after the bed incident, Dean had Castiel pinned in a corner by the wrists and was about to rechain the angel’s hands when Sammy finally intervened.  “Dean!” he yelled, dragging his older brother back.  “Enough!  Leave him alone!  Do you know who you’re acting like?!”

            Dean froze.  The look he gave Sam made the younger Winchester pause, but Sam didn’t back down. He reached out and pulled the short length of chain out of Dean’s hands.  “Enough.  Let him be, Dean.  You’re scaring him.”

            “I assure you, he is not,” Castiel corrected.  He glared at Dean through narrowed eyes, looking not at all afraid despite the fact that Dean had just had him pinned in a corner.  “He is hardly the first master I’ve ever had to put his hands on me.  He is, however, the first to be upset after I willingly climbed into his bed.  What is it, master?  You can’t get it up unless you’re forcing me?”

            Dean’s face flushed.  “Oh, you son of a...!”

            “Dean!”  Sam shoved his brother again.  “He’s helpless!  Those runes take away his powers and his strength, and keep him from fighting back.  He’s using the only weapons he’s got to make you respect his wishes!”

            “If he’d just let me touch his stupid wings one time...?”

            “Dean, he isn’t human,” Sam reminded.  “His wings are the one thing that proves it.  Have you considered that maybe letting someone else touch them could be a bit intimate for him?”

            Castiel suddenly went still.  Sam noticed and nodded.  “Yeah, I think I hit the nail on the head there.  Leave his wings alone, Dean.”

            “That’s an intimate thing?  Seriously?!” Dean’s cheeks burned.  “No wonder you’ve been such a prick!  All this time I thought you were being a stubborn ass, and here I’ve been trying to do the angel equivalent of groping you and didn’t know it!  Dude, why didn’t you just tell me?”

            “Would it have mattered?” Castiel spat.  “You’ll be fucking me sooner or later, so what’s a little fondling of my wings compared to that?!”

            “Castiel, we’re not...”

            “You bought me as a sex slave!” the angel roared.  “I know exactly what you want from me.  Bad enough what you’re going to do to me, but must you insult my intelligence as well?!”

            Dean let his breath hiss between his teeth.  “Fine.”  He unwrapped the lead chain from around the angel’s waist, stepped back, and used it to pull Castiel out of the corner.  “Come on.  I won’t try to touch your wings anymore.  Since I obviously can’t trust you, I’m keeping you with me.  But first, you are making that bed!”

            Cas clung to the chain and dug in his heels.  “No!  Leave me alone!”

            “Dean, stop!  Castiel, I have already taken that book off of him...”

            Dean sputtered.  “What?!” He felt in his pocket and flushed as he realized he’d been pickpocketed.  “Damn it, Sammy!”

            “...And he’s not getting it back until he convinces me he’ll stop using it to torment you,” Sam continued, ignoring his brother.  “But so far, you have given us no reason at all to believe you can be trusted.  So will you please do this one thing?  It is three am now and I, for one, am exhausted.  I’m reasonably certain Dean is, too.  So how about this.  Castiel, would you please just help Dean make his bed back up?  Then we can all sleep!”

            “I have no need of sleep.”

            “Lucky you!”

            “Guys!”  Sam rubbed his temples.  “If you don’t stop fighting, I swear I’m locking you both in the dungeon.  Then you’ll both be upset, but at least I’ll get some sleep and you can yell at each other all night long!”

            The angel and the hunter shared a withering glower.

            Sam raised his hands, looking pleadingly between the two.  “Please, just agree to get along to do this one thing? Then we can go to bed and Cas can, I don’t know, watch TV or something while we sleep.”

            “He stays with me,” Dean insisted.  “I’ll chain him up in my room.  That way I know he’s not up to anything stupid.”

            Sam loomed over his brother, radiating menace.  “Dean, if you don’t leave him alone, I swear...!”

            “We’re fine, Sam!  You’ve made your point.”  He turned to Castiel.  “Cas, I fucked up.  I’m sorry I was trying to cop a feel on your wings.  I didn’t know that was an intimate thing.  The only reason I wanted to touch them was because they’re freaking awesome!  But I get it. I’ll leave you alone.”

            The angel blinked in surprise.

            “I’ll leave you alone,” Dean amended, “after you help make my bed!” Dean started towards his room, pulling the angel after him on the end of the chain.

            To his surprise, Castiel went with him without protest.  He wordlessly helped Dean strip the muddy sheets from his bed and remake it.  He even did hospital corners.  “Thank you,” Dean said.

            Castiel nodded, not meeting his eyes.  “Now what?”

            “Now, I’m going to bed.”  The end of Castiel’s chain was equipped with a locking link that could be used to attach the chain to something else.  Dean wrapped the end of the chain around his bedpost and clipped the locking link back onto the chain, securing Castiel to the post.  The angel should be able to reach the recliner from here.  Ignoring him completely, Dean stripped down to his boxers, tossing his clothes haphazardly on the floor, and climbed in.

            Belatedly, he realized what he’d done.  Angel or not, Castiel was a sex slave.  Dean had just chained a sex slave to his bed, stripped down, and climbed in. Now the angel was naked and about to climb in after Dean, expecting Dean to use him!  “Whoa!” Dean yelped.  “I didn’t mean for...”

            Castiel wasn’t in his bed.  He’d settled into the recliner, fully clothed.  Now he cocked an eyebrow at Dean.  “What?”

            Dean blinked.  “I... But you’re...  You’re not coming in with me?”

            “No. Why would I?”

            Dean blinked again.  “Well, when I said I was going to bed, I mean, you said that’s what your other masters used you for, so I thought...?”

            The angel’s expression darkened.  “You thought I would meekly climb into your bed simply because you chained me to it?  That I would simply submit to whatever you wanted to do to me?  And you told your brother that you would leave me alone! But I suppose, considering what he bought me for, that this would be the exception.”

            “Cas...”

            “I already told you, I am not a sex slave!  I don’t care why you bought me.  I will not willingly allow you to use me, and no one has been able to rape me without tying me down first.  Is that what you intend to do?”

            “What?  No!”

            “Then I believe you’ll have to be satisfied with your own hand, because I have no intention of joining you in that bed.  And without the spells, even if you drag me over there, I doubt you’ll be able to compel me to so much as kiss you!  Have a pleasant evening.”  With that, Castiel turned onto his side, facing way from Dean, and went silent.

            “Well that’s a relief,” Dean grumbled.  He pulled up his covers and put his back to the angel.  It was a relief.  The last thing he wanted was for Castiel to feel like he had to subject himself to sexual assault.

            But at the same time, he secretly admitted he was disappointed.  Cas was hot.  He had dark hair that was all but asking to be touched, the bluest eyes Dean had ever seen, and a toned runner’s body.  If they’d met in a bar, Dean would have hit on him immediately.  Dean would never force himself on anyone, but the idea of the beautiful angel squirming and moaning willingly beneath him instantly had his cock interested.  Dean had taken many lovers of both sexes in his life.  He knew he was skilled.  It was obvious that the angel had been brutally used in the past, but had he ever really been pleasured?  Forcing him obviously hadn’t worked.  Cas needed gentleness.  Dean could be gentle.  He could take Cas apart in a way that might just make him forget about everyone else who had ever touched him.  And Dean would never, ever tie him down, not unless that was something the angel might someday want.  Bondage could be fun if done right.  Cas was likely too traumatized to be able to take pleasure in being restrained, but what if Dean let the angel bind him?  That could be fun.  Dean imagined himself lying on his back, his wrists tied to the bedposts while Cas rode his dick or maybe even fucked him?  Yeah, that was the ticket.  Let Cas have all the control in bed.  Slender hands wrapped around Dean’s cock, those blue eyes blown wide and half lidded in pleasure as he sank deep?  Dean gave a little shiver.  Now that was therapy!

            Of course, they had a long, long way to go before they reached that point. Well, it wasn’t like Cas was going anywhere.  Dean had no intention of selling him anytime soon.

***

            “I’m selling him!”

            Sam looked up to see his furious brother stomping into the room, dragging a stumbling Castiel behind him on the end of his chain.  “I’m selling him, Sammy!  Give me his chain for his wrists and his book.  I’m leaving for the closest auction house that will still sell him right now!”

            “Wow, not even twenty four hours and you’re already selling me?” Cas called dryly. “New record.”

            “Shut up!”

            “Dean, what the hell happened?” Sam asked, trying for patience.

            “I’ll tell you what happened,” Dean began.  “I took him out to the garage with me and told him to clean the bugs off of the Impala while I fixed that rattle in the exhaust...”

            “Your exact words were ‘Cas, scrape off these bugs.’  I was following your orders.”  Cas looked more irritated than smug.

            “Next thing I know, he’s up there with sandpaper, sanding the paint off of my baby!”

            Sam winced.  “He used sandpaper on your Impala?”

            Dean’s face was beet red.  “Sammy, I nearly killed him right then and there!  Now come on!  Give me the chain for his wrists and that stupid spell book.  There’s an auction house in Topeka...”

            “That won’t take me back,” Cas called.  He sounded bored.  “The last owner that bought me from there was informed they wouldn’t sell me again. That’s why he sold me in Kansas City.”

            “Fine, then we’ll take him to Wichita...”

            “They won’t take me back either.  That was actually the first auction house that banned me.  The last owner that bought me there had to sell me in Topeka.  And now I’ve been banned from Kansas City as well, haven’t I?  Yes, I suspected as much.”

            “Son of a bitch!”  Dean had hold of Cas’s chain.  Now he jerked Cas closer, grabbed the angel’s shoulders, and gave him a brutal shake. “I swear, I’ll sell your ass even if I have to take you all the way to St. Louis to do it!”

            “Dean!  Let go of him!”  Sam pried Dean’s hands off of the angel’s shoulders and shoved him back.  “You’re not selling him, so leave him alone!  He was doing what you told him to do!”

            “Bullshit!  Bullshit, Sammy!  The bucket with the hose and the soap and sponge were all right there.  That son of a bitch had to walk past all of it and go clear across the garage to get that sandpaper!”

            “I did see the cleaning supplies, but you didn’t tell me to clean,” Cas said calmly.  He was rubbing at his shoulders and frowning at Dean.  “You specifically instructed me to scrape.  I saw a chisel there, but felt sandpaper would do a better job.”

            “There, do you see?” Sam exclaimed.  “Dean, I know how much you love that car, but Cas is an angel!  How much do you really think he knows about car maintenance, especially when you consider what he’s been used for these past three years?”

            That took some of the wind out of Dean’s sails.  His jaw worked, his face still red and furious as he considered this. “Cas, have you ever cleaned a car before?”

            “No,” Cas said flatly.  “I saw how shiny yours was and thought the sandpaper would enhance that.  I made a mistake.  I’m sorry.”

            The apology rendered both brothers speechless.  Castiel was looking down, a sour expression on his face.  “I understand that you’re angry, but I didn’t mean to scrape up your shiny car.  Even before you started screaming, I realized I was doing something wrong because the shine and the paint were coming off along with the dried insects.  I know it doesn’t matter, but it was not intentional. Now how am I to be punished?”

            “You’re not going to be punished, Cas,” Sam said quickly.  “And Dean is going to walk away from you for a while and calm down!  Here.” He gathered the angel’s chain and moved to wrap it around Cas’s waist again when he stopped, frowning. “Castiel, are these the same clothes you were wearing yesterday?  Do you want to get cleaned up?”

            “I have no need to change my clothing or bathe,” he explained.  “One of my owners took me into a shower, intending to use me there, but excepting that, I have never been in one.”

            Sam nodded.  “Alright, we’ll get you some clothes, and some shoes.  I can run out today and get some.”

            “Get me clothes?”  Cas looked completely confused.  “But what about the shower?  Is that what my punishment will be?  Am I to be assaulted in the shower?”

            “Dude, we’re not going to punish you!” Dean sighed.  “And I’m sorry I blew my top.  I gotta be careful about how I word things around you, I guess.”

            Now the angel looked up in surprise, his eyes moving from one brother to the other. “I damaged your property, made you angrier than I’ve seen since you bought me, but I’m not going to be punished? I don’t understand.  Will you punish me later?”

            “Castiel!  We’re not going to punish you!” Sam insisted.

            Castiel blinked.  Then his eyes fixed on Dean and his scowl returned.  “I see.  So selling me is to be my punishment.”  He raised his manacled wrists.  “Chain me up, then, and let’s go.  Judging by what you said, St. Louis must be some distance away.  We should start traveling now if you wish to sell me at the next auction.”

            “We’re not selling you either,” Dean grumbled.  “You’re fine for now, Cas.”

            Castiel once again looked from one to the other.  “You’re not going to sell me?  Then how will you punish me?”  His eyes narrowed as the brothers exchanged exasperated looks.  “I see.  I won’t know the time or the means of what you’ll do.  It will just happen when I don’t expect it!”

            “Cas, look at me,” Sam pleaded.  “You made a mistake.  Dean overreacted, but even he’s not mad at you anymore.  It’s not your fault.  No one is upset with you.  And we. Are not.  Going.  To punish you!”

            “Yes, you are!”  Now Cas looked almost frantic.  “Yes, you are!  I ruined your car, and I made him angry!  Maybe you won’t punish me, but he will!  What will it be, huh master?  What are you going to do to me?!”

            Now Cas was in Dean’s face.  The angel’s fists were clenched at his sides.  “Tell me!” he screamed in Dean’s face.  “What will you do?  It’s the shower, isn’t it?  Are you going to press me into the wall with my hands chained behind my back like he did, beat me and rape me and wash away all the evidence?  Or will you take me back into that garage, beat me and then make me repair the damage to your car?”

            Dean blinked.  “You can repair the damage to my car?”

            “If you command me, I’ll have little choice!”  The angel’s breathing was fast, his eyes filled with a mixture of anger and dread.  “You’ll force me to repair what I’ve done, and then beat me until I can’t even stand!”

            “Cas!” Sam called, alarmed.  “Calm down, alright?  No one is going to punish you!”

            “Yes, I am,” Dean corrected.  “Sammy, give me his book.”

            “Dean?”

            “His book, Sammy.  I need to take him to the garage and make him fix the Impala.  That’s his punishment.  I’ll make him fix my baby.”  He snatched the book from Sam and raised his voice slightly.  “Do you hear me, Castiel?  You’ve made a mess out of my car, and this?”  He turned and shook the book at Cas, seeing the angel flinch.  “This is your punishment!”

            The surly, defiant scowl was back.  “Of course.  Whatever you say, master.”

            Dean gave him a little shove.  “Alright, let’s go.”

            “Dean?” Sam warned.  “We’re talking about this when you get back!”

            Dean only nodded.  His face had an odd, determined look.  And a few minutes later, Cas returned, storming through to go into the living room and throw himself down on the couch to sulk.

            “He’s been a slave for three years,” Dean explained quietly when Sam looked at him. “He’s had all those other owners, all of whom were trying their damnedest to break him.  And the sad part is, they already did!  I think he broke on the very first one, but the guy didn’t realize it because of how he acts, how defiant he is.  He’s broken alright, just not the way they thought he’d break. He’s just waiting for someone else to hurt him.  It’s all he expects.”

            “That’s why he kept insisting on being punished,” Sam realized with a groan. “Because that’s all he knows!  But Dean, we can’t keep doing this every time he makes a mistake!”

            “I know,” Dean sighed.  “But he’d already seen how mad I was.  He wasn’t going to stop until he was punished, and if we didn’t do it...?”

            “He’d keep going until we did or he ended up doing it himself.”  Sam sighed and ran a hand through his hair, looking back towards Castiel.  “Dean, what are we going to do?”

            “Don’t know,” Dean replied.

            “I do,” Sam declared.  “We’ll free him.”

            Dean groaned.  “Here we go again.  Sammy, this is why I never wanted to own another slave.  Along with all the emotional baggage having one brings, the fact that you always want to free them causes no end of trouble!  Let’s just figure out a way to control Cas, settle him down a bit, and sell him for profit as fast as we can.”

            “No! No, Dean!  I bought him, and I’m setting him free!”

            “You’d owe me half a million bucks!”

            “I’ll rob a bank!”

            Dean rubbed his temples.  “Setting aside the significant financial loss we’ll take if you free him, you realize you’d be setting a broken, traumatized angel loose on the world that we’d probably end up hunting later?”

            “Then we’ll help him,” Sam insisted.  “We’ll get his head straightened out, and then we’ll free him!”

            Dean pinched the bridge of his nose.  “You know what, I am not having this argument again with you, Sammy.  Every single slave our family has ever owned, you’ve gotten attached to and wanted to free.  It hasn’t happened for a single one!”

            “It’s happening with this one.”  Sam had that angry, stubborn set to his jaw now.  “And don’t stand there and try to pretend I’m the only one who’s gotten attached!”  He leaned closer.  “You were looking for them too, Dean.  Just like I was!”

            “Yeah, I was,” Dean admitted.  “I was just as uncomfortable there as you were, and if we’d seen any of them there, what, exactly, would you have done?”

            “I don’t know,” Sam admitted.  “Bid on them, probably.”

            “Precisely.  You would have bankrupted us, trying to buy back all of dad’s old, broken sex slaves who would have been in their late fifties or sixties by now if they’re even alive.  But they’re probably not, and even if they are, they’d be sold for pennies at public auctions, not fancy high places like that!”

            “But I still looked,” Sam confessed.  “We both did.”

            “Yeah.  And that’s why we avoid auctions, and it’s the primary reason we decided we’d never own another slave after dad sold the last one!  Sammy, we’ve never had a slave that hasn’t ended up in heartache.”

            “Then don’t you think it’s time we broke the streak?”  Sammy’s eyes pleaded with Dean.  “Dean, for once, we’ve got a slave that’s only ours!  Castiel belongs to you and me, and this time, dad’s not around to hurt him or sell him out from under us.  For the first time, we can really do it!  We can help Castiel deal with what’s happened to him, and then set him free!”

            Dean gave up.  “You want to play psychologist with an angel, be my guest.  But give me the book back.  I’ll make copies of the pages and figure out what the commands do.”

            “You still want to find a way to control Cas, so you can sell him for profit!”

            “Yes, Sammy, I do.  Cas belongs to both of us, ok?  You’ve got your plans, and I’ve got mine.  And frankly, they both work out.  If I can get him under control, you’ve got a better chance to help him, right? And if you can straighten out his head, get him to accept his situation, that makes him easier to sell.  So we’ll try both and see which one pans out first. Now give me the book.”

            Sam reluctantly handed Dean the book.  “Don’t be a jerk to him, Dean.”

            “Whatever, bitch.  Go study your psychology while I head out to Staples.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update - by the time I finished with this, my troll had posted a sixth trolling comment. I feel like an actual author or something now that I've got a heckler! Don't worry, I'll stop feeding the troll, but holy shit did that make my night tonight!


	4. Commands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean tries to understand the commands in Castiel's book, but Cas isn't willing to help him learn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone say hi to my brother, who is now apparently following my story, or at least haunting my comments section. Yeah, bro, I am actually literate. I got As in English while you were playing football, remember? One of the many reasons mom and dad always did like me better.
> 
> For everyone else who is not a neanderthal foundling, I've been changing the tags a bit as I get the story written. I really don't want to trigger anyone so I'll toss up a TW when things get nasty.

            By the time Dean returned with the copies, Sam was buried in his books and the internet, researching trauma victims and ways to help them.  Dean left him to it.  He brought Cas into the den and got to work learning the commands in the book.  Cas couldn’t touch his book, so Dean gave him some copies of the pages and made Cas go through each one with him, explaining what each command did.  That had resulted in one profoundly irritated angel. Before long, Cas was answering Dean’s questions with utter nonsense.  The worst part was that by the time Dean realized that the picture of a figure standing with his legs spread and his arms raised up in a victory pose most certainly was not a command to start tap dancing, he had no idea when, exactly, Cas had stopped being honest about what the commands were for.  Now Dean had a long set of notes and hours of time potentially wasted.  “Come on, Cas, be serious!” he exclaimed.  “Ok, I’m betting this one back here of the figure on its hands and knees doesn’t really mean ‘search for loose change,’ does it?”

            “No, actually, it does not.”

            “So what does it mean?”

            “It means I am to be your pony and let you ride me around,” Cas told him.

            Dean stared at the picture in horror.  “Really?”

            Cas rolled his eyes.  “No.”

            “Then what does it mean?”

            “It means to get on my hands and knees.”

            Dean eyed him.  “Is that really what it means?”

            Cas twiddled his thumbs.  “Maybe?”

            “Ok, that does it!  One way to find out, right?”  Dean carefully read the spell from the copy with his notes and raised an eyebrow when nothing happened.  “Ok, what the hell?”

            Cas gave him a wicked grin.  “It seems you’ve lost the ability to command me.  How about that?  Now I guess if you want me to do something, you’ll just have to ask politely.”

            Flustered, Dean headed out to find Sammy in the library.  Keeping near the door so he could see if Cas tried to run, Dean told Sam what had happened.

            “You realize that the book itself is most likely part of the spell, right?” Sammy asked, exasperated.  “There’s several components to it.  Cas has to be wearing the collar and probably the manacles as well.  He has to be in range, and you have to be at least holding it the book when you cast the spell.  Otherwise, anyone could command him!  You understand that, right?”

            “O-of course I do!” Dean stammered.  “I mean, obviously you can’t control an angel with some words on a sheet of copy paper!” Too bad.  He’d been hoping to lock the book, and the sex spells, away and just carry the useful spells with him.

            “Try at least holding the book when you command him,” Sammy suggested, going back to his research.

            Dean stormed back into the den.  Cas had obviously guessed that Dean figured it out, if the scowl on his face and the fact he was using Dean’s pen to try to push his book under a shelf was anything to go by.  “I have to hold the book to be able to command you,” Dean accused, retrieving the book.

            “Naturally.  But the spell you were asking about means to get on my hands and knees.”  Cas was suddenly anxious, straightening in alarm at the sight of his book back in Dean’s hands.  “I’m serious.  That’s really what it means.  You don’t have to command me!”

            “Yeah, I don’t think I can just take your word for it anymore, Cas.  Probably should have just done it this way in the first place, instead of wasting hours of time!”  Dean read the spell and blinked in surprise when Cas suddenly dropped to all fours.  “Oh! It really did mean to get on your hands and knees.  Huh!  What’s the point of that, I wonder?”

            Cas didn’t move, and realization slowly dawned on Dean.  “Oh,” he said quietly.  He made a quick note, adding the spell to his “Get rid of this nasty sex shit” list, and looked up to see that the angel was still on his hands and knees.  “Um, you can get up now.”

            “I could get up seconds after you dragged me down here,” Cas snarled.  His head stayed down, his fists clenched.  “None of those spells can control me for long. I’m not being forced to stay like this. I’m only trying to regain my calm.”

            “Regain your calm?  Regain your calm.  Cas, why the hell do you have to be like this, huh?  I never would have forced you down like that if you’d have just told me the truth about what the spell did in the first place!  How many of these others that you told me are bullshit?”

            Now Cas looked up.  “Nearly all of them!”

            Dean swore.  He shoved back his chair hard enough to send it crashing to the ground and got up, pacing and breathing hard.  “Cas, why would you do that?!” he asked, exasperated.  “Now I don’t have any choice but to go through all the commands and actually see what they do!  Uh huh, look at you, you winced.  You don’t want me to do that anymore than I actually want to do it, so why are you forcing my hand here?”

            “Forcing your hand?”  Cas was getting up, his face twisted in disgust.  “That’s funny, master.  You, accusing me of forcing you to do anything, while you magically compel me to obey you?!”

            “I don’t want to magically compel you to do anything, but you just told me that you gave me bullshit answers for nearly every one of the commands in this book!” Dean pointed accusingly at his copy, where he’d been transcribing notes about the commands.  “This?  It’s worthless now, because I can’t believe a word you say.  So guess what, Cas?”  Dean crumpled the paper and hurled it angrily aside, glad he’d had the foresight to make multiple copies.  “I’ve got no choice but to start over and learn what these commands do the hard way!”

            Castiel’s breathing was still quick.  He was still staring at the floor, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.  “Please don’t do that,” he said quietly.  “Don’t command me.  I’ll tell you what they do.”

            “Too late,” Dean announced, getting a clean copy and picking up his pen.  “I can’t trust you now.  Settle in, Cas, we’re going to be here a while.”

            Cas squeezed his eyes shut.  “Please!”

            “Ok, starting from the top, picture of a pair of hands crossed that you said meant ‘stop’ actually means...?”

            “It means present myself for binding!”

            “Survey says?”  Dean read the spell.

            With a small sound, Cas immediately turned around and crossed his hands behind his back at the wrist in the perfect position for them to be tied or chained. Dean saw him strain, the muscles in his arms trembling for a few seconds before he broke position.  Cas turned quickly back around, panting, his fists clenched at his sides as he glared at Dean.

            “Ok, that means cross your hands behind your back, got it.”  Cas had been fighting the command, but it had taken several seconds before he could free himself.  That was uncomfortable as hell to watch, but probably useful information to know.  Dean scribbled it down.  “Ok, next is...”

            Cas was suddenly gone, running out of the room.

            “Hey, whoa, where are you going?  Cas!  Get your feathered ass back here!”  Dean flipped to the “come” spell, quickly chanted it, and grabbed the angel’s chain when he appeared.  He waited, counting, and sure enough, after a few seconds, Cas broke his kneeling position and was struggling again.  Dean held on. “Where the hell do you think you’re going?”

            “Away from you!”  Cas tugged on his chain.  “Let go! Leave me alone!”

            “Not until we get through these commands.”  Dean dragged him back, wrapping the chain around a support post next to him and locking it in place.  The angel seemed to have no real strength at all.  Despite Castiel’s struggling to pull free, Dean was able to drag him with little difficulty.

            Castiel growled and shook the chain.  “No!  Let me go! I’m sorry I lied, I won’t do it again. Please don’t make me do all those commands!”

            “You really going to tell me what all of these do, the truth this time?”

            The angel hesitated.  “All of them?”

            “Well, there’s my answer.  Next command, looks just like the other one, crossed hands, only this time the hands are in the air.”

            “It means I have to get on my knees and offer myself for binding above my head. Please don’t do this to me!”  He made another little sound when Dean read the spell and he was forced onto his knees, holding up his crossed wrists towards Dean above his bowed head.

            Dean swallowed hard.  “Ok, got it.” He scribbled a note, trying not to see the angel struggle to lower his hands.  Cas succeeded after a few seconds, letting them rest on his knees. His eyes had closed.  His fists and jaw were clenched, but he didn’t say a word.  Dean cleared his throat.  “Next, picture of a sideways face?”

            Cas remained still and quiet.

            Dean licked his lips.  “Um, you said it was a command to put you to sleep?”

            No response.  Dean shifted uneasily.  “Cas? What does this really do?”

            “It will force me to lay my head in your lap.”  The angel was all but whispering.

            Oh, hell no.  Dean added it to his list.  “I’m going to take your word for that one, ok?  Um next, yeah, let’s skip that next one, too.  And the next one.  Holy shit, Cas, this book?  I’m starting to notice a pattern here.”

            Now the angel scoffed.  “You know what I was intended to be, what I’ve been used for.  Why does this surprise you?”

            Dean shook his head, frowning at the spells.  “I don’t know, it just seems like a waste, I guess.”

            Cas actually looked up at him.  “A waste?”

            “Well, yeah!  I mean, you’re an angel, right?  If someone wanted a sex slave, there’s lots of human slaves who were trained for it. Why force an angel with spells that only work for a few seconds?  And why use you for sex at all?”

            An eyebrow went up.  “You don’t find my vessel attractive?  The way you were moaning and calling my name in your sleep last night seems to make a liar of you.”

            Dean blushed.  “Not what I’m getting at!”  He considered his thoughts, searching for a way to put them into words.  “If I had enough power to enslave an angel, honestly, sex is about the last thing I’d use you for.  You’ve got all this power!  Cas, you fixed the Impala with little more than a brush of your hand!  I don’t understand why ‘fix the car’ was represented by a big cross, though.”

            “Because it’s not meant to fix a car,” Cas admitted with a sigh.  “That’s another problem with the book.  The commands are often very non-specific.  That spell forces me to use my ability to heal, but in this case, it allowed me to repair the damage.”

            “You can heal!  See, that’s the kind of thing I expected most of these spells to be for, to utilize your angel powers.  But other than that one and the one to make you open your wings, what is in this book that applies specifically to an angel?”

            “It all applies specifically to an angel!  Those spells...”

            “I get that the spells are designed to control you because you’re an angel. But what I mean is that what most of them make you do are the kind of things you can get a human slave to do! Why make all these spells to force an angel to do things you can get from a human?”

            Cas frowned at him.  “Ask your brother.”

            “Why the hell would Sammy know?”

            “Because he could have bought any slave at that auction, but he didn’t bid on any of them.  He bought me! I was the only slave for sale that night who wasn’t human.  And I was the only slave he bid on.  So ask him why he wanted an angel sex slave, if he could get all of that from a human?”

            Castiel was, Dean decided, the single most infuriating being in the known universe.  “Castiel?” he said carefully.  “Sammy did not buy you as a sex slave.”

            Cas snapped his fingers.  “Oh, that’s right, he bought me to spite a rival, how could I forget?”

            Dean suddenly decided he’d had enough.  “Ok, you know what, Cas?  Ask Sammy when you see him.  He can explain exactly why he decided to buy an angel sex slave!”  Leaving Cas chained to the pole, he stormed off to regain his composure.

            He found Sammy still in the library, surrounded by books that all seemed related to psychology, trauma, and sexual assault.  He barely looked up as Dean entered.  “I’ve been making a list, things we can try to help Castiel,” he began. “I think...”

            “Yeah, I’m going to need some help.  You’re the nerd, and you know this library better than anyone.  Where do you think I can find anything about spells to control an angel?”

            Sammy frowned without looking up.  “I actually did find something.  Those runes on his collar and his manacle?  They’re sigils.  It’s a language called Enochian, which is the language of angels.  I saw them before, back when I was researching the warding on the bunker.  There’s not much about them, but there’s a few books in the back.”

            “Great!  Can we, I don’t know, modify them?”

            Now Sammy looked up.  “That’s precisely what I want to do, Dean.  Modify the runes so we can remove his restraints and free him!”

            “Any way we can make them stronger?”

            Sam blinked.  “Stronger?!”

            “Strong enough that he can’t break free from the spells as quick, so they’ll last long enough to actually be useful?”

            Sammy looked at him sharply.  “Dean, he’s already so confined by the spells on his restraints that he has no way to defend himself!  Now you want to magically tie him down even tighter?!  I am not helping you with that!”

            “I’m not asking you to.  Just show me where these books are and I’ll figure it out on my own.  Trust me, Sammy, Cas needs tied down tighter.  Otherwise, we are never going to get control of him, and he’s going to make our lives a living hell!  The sooner I get him controlled, the sooner I can sell him!”

            Sam glanced around the room before returning his gaze to Dean and frowning.  “Dean, where is Castiel?  Did something happen?”

            “I left him in the den, chained up to one of the posts.  He...”

            “You chained him up and left him alone?  Dean, what the hell is wrong with you?!”

            “I needed a break, ok, Sammy?  I was just about ready to kill the guy!”

            Sam stared at him.  “So you left him chained up, alone and helpless?”

            “It was that or put a bullet in him!” Dean exclaimed, throwing up his hands.  “I gotta tell you, I get why he’s been sold so many times.”

            Here came the bitch face.  “Yes, Dean.  He has been sold multiple times.  By people who beat and raped and abused him repeatedly until they tired of him!”

            “And frankly, I’m surprised that total isn’t way higher!  Sammy, Cas is...!”

            Sam was in Dean’s face now.  “Castiel has gone through Hell!  You know, that place you would have gone if we hadn’t found a way to get you out of that crossroads deal?”

            Dean groaned.  “Holy shit, Sammy, that was three years ago!”

            “But if we hadn’t stumbled over the existence of the Men of Letters and gotten in here to this library when we did?  If we hadn’t found a way to protect you until Bobby and I could figure out how to save you?”

            Dean groaned.  “Ok, I got lucky, Castiel’s been through hell, and I’m an asshole for leaving him alone, but I need a break from angel duty, ok?”

            “Fine,” Sam snapped.  “Give me the key and I’ll go unchain him.  Then I’ll keep him with me for a while and give you a break.  You can go watch Dr. Sexy or something while I try to help our traumatized angel!”

            “Have fun!”  Dean tossed his brother the key, and Sam stormed out.  Dean amused himself by peeking at his brother’s notes.  It was mostly a list of suggestions that sounded like they could come from a self-help list in a women’s magazine. Understanding, compassion, kindness, gentleness, what the hell?  Dean picked up Sammy’s pen and added “frequent walks and the occasional Milk Bone” to the list.

            Shouting came from the other room.  Dean smirked and stayed where he was.  About time Sammy got a taste of just how much fun Cas really was.  Watching Sammy trying to deal with their stubborn angel was probably going to be a much better show than Dr. Sexy.  Dean settled in and waited for the fun to start.

            More shouting from the other room, followed by a loud crash.  Ok, that sounded a bit more serious.  Dean sighed and got up, heading into the other room.

            There was Sammy, standing about five feet away from Cas with his hands raised as though in surrender.  The table had been flipped, paper scattered everywhere.  Now it was lying on the floor like a border wall between Cas and Sammy.  Cas had taken the chair Dean had been sitting in and was crouched behind it like a shield, his back against the pole he’d been chained to.

            “Castiel, I am not going to hurt you,” Sam said. Apparently, he’d been saying it for some time now.  “All I want to do is unchain you from that pole!”

            “I told you that I won’t let you use me that way!” Cas yelled.  “I can’t fight you, but I will do everything in my power to resist!  Leave me alone!”

            “Ok, I’m going to leave you alone,” Sam promised. “But look.  I’ve got the key to your chain, see?  All I want to do is unchain you.”  He carefully started forward.  “If you just let me...”

            “Don’t touch me!”

            “Ok, ok, Cas, I’m not going to touch you!” Sam hastily backed up, his hands still in the air.

            “Hey, Sammy, how’s the talk therapy going?” Dean called.

            Another bitch face.  “Dean, this isn’t funny.  He’s obviously traumatized, but I can’t just leave him chained up like this!”

            “Sure you can!”  Dean righted the table and began gathering the scattered bits of paper. “He wants left alone, so leave him alone.  What’d you say to him, anyway?”

            “Nothing!”  Sammy looked like he was beside himself.  “I came in, said hello, asked him how he feels...”

            “STAY AWAY FROM ME!” Cas roared, ducking further behind his chair.

            Dean sighed.  “Sammy?  You just asked a sex slave how he feels.”

            “I’m not a sex slave!”

            “Of course not!”  Sammy looked pleadingly at Cas.  “Castiel, please, listen to me!  I just wanted to...”

            “You asked a SEX SLAVE,” Dean repeated, stressing the words, “how he FEELS.”

            Understanding and chagrin washed over Sam’s face.

            “I am not a sex slave!” Cas spat.  “I don’t care what you do to me, I will never submit to anyone touching me!”

            “Oh no!  Cas, that’s not what I meant at all!”  Sammy was waving his hands now, desperate to be understood.  “I wanted to know what your emotional state was, not... I’m not going to touch you!”

            Suspicious blue eyes narrowed at Sam over the chair. “You’re the one who bought me in the first place.  He said you could explain exactly why you wanted an angel sex slave.”

            “Wow,” Dean admired.  “I think that is the single most epic bitch face you have ever given me, Sammy.  I gotta say, I’m as anxious to hear your answer as Cas is!”

            Sam took some threatening steps towards Dean, caught himself with an effort, and breathed through his nose.  Then he turned back to the angel.  “I did not buy you as a sex slave, Castiel,” he said quietly.  “I bought you because I knew Magnus would only be interested in you if you weren’t human, and I didn’t want him to be able to use you against us.  I never guessed you were an angel, and I didn’t know you were a...”  He shook his head.  “I didn’t know what you had been used for in the past, but I swear, Dean and I have no intention of ever using you like that!  But I have no doubt that Magnus would have been exactly the kind of master that you believe we are.”  Sam spread his hands.  “I don’t believe in slavery.  I bought you to keep you from Magnus, and I have every intention of setting you free!”

            Cas snorted.  “Gee, I’ve never heard that one before!  ‘Just let me have my way with you, Castiel, and I’ll set you free,’ right?  Do you think I’m a fool?!  I am fully aware of just how rare an angel slave is, and how difficult it is to control me.  I know how much power is in these restraints to keep me trapped like this.  Freeing me is likely beyond your power, not that you ever would!”  The angel’s face was dark with anger.  “I’m sick of these games!  Just leave me alone!”

            Sam pinched the bridge of his nose.  “Castiel, will you please let me unlock your chain from that post?”

            Cas ducked back behind the chair again.  “No!  Stay away from me!”

            Sam’s shoulders sagged in defeat.  “Alright.  I really don’t want to leave you chained up, but I get it.  You need space, so I’ll give it to you.”  He tossed the key to Dean.  “Here, in case he changes his mind.”

            “So much for my break from angel duty, huh?  I say we just leave him there until he comes to his senses,” Dean offered. “Not like he sleeps anyway, so he doesn’t need a bed, right?  So let him sit and stew in his own resentment.  Hey Cas, don’t go on the floor, ok?  Good angel!”

            Sam walked quietly towards his brother, grabbed Dean painfully by his upper arm, and all but dragged him out into the next room. “Why are you treating him like this?” he hissed.

            “Two reasons.  One, he’s not human, Sammy.  He’s a monster.  We’re supposed to gank monsters, remember?”

            “He’s an angel!”

            “Something we have never encountered before, but still a monster.  And two, as you have just seen with your own eyes, he is a complete and total douche bag!”

            “What he is, is traumatized!  Dean, how can you treat him like this, after what we both watched...?”

            Dean’s head snapped up.  “Don’t,” he warned.  “Do not even go there.  I know exactly what you see when you look at slaves.  And I get it, alright?  They make me uncomfortable, too.  Magnus knows just enough about us that he knew we’d be uncomfortable at that stupid auction.  But you’re not saving the slaves that took care of us when you were little when you’re trying to save Cas, ok?  And Cas isn’t even a person!  You want to help?  Figure out a way to make his rune thingies on his collar stronger!  Get it so his commands last longer than a few seconds so we can sell him for a shit ton of money.  Then you can use your share of it to buy and free some human slaves.  Because unless we can fix that little problem?  We are never ever getting our money back!”

            Dean was spared from having to listen to whatever his red-faced brother was about to scream at him by his phone ringing.  Dean frowned at the unknown number and answered it. “This is Dean.”

            “Mr. Winchester?  This is Albert Magnus.  I believe, by now, you might be more willing to talk about selling me something you purchased recently?  I’m more than willing to recoup your losses, and you won’t get a better offer.”

            Dean turned away from Sammy, who was eyeing him suspiciously.  “I’m listening.  What are you offering?”

            “We’ll discuss that.  Bring the slave to the coordinates I’m texting you and we’ll chat. And if you want to deal, then I’d recommend you leave your impulsive brother at home.”


	5. Making A Deal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean takes Castiel to sell him to Magnus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings, some non-con and discussion of past rape

            It was, bar none, the single worst fight Dean had ever had with his brother.  But in the end, Sammy had stormed off, yelling for Dean to do whatever he thought he could live with over his shoulder just before he slammed the door.  Dean had taken a moment to compose himself.  Then he’d gone back to the angel.

            Castiel had apparently felt sorry about the mess he’d made.  He’d gathered up the rest of the papers and had replaced the chairs at the table. The only thing still on the floor was his book.  Of course, Cas couldn’t touch that.  At least he hadn’t tried to hide it under a shelf.  The angel himself was sitting against the pole.  He’d pulled his knees up to his chest and had his head down, resting on them.  He didn’t look up when Dean approached until he heard the slight rattle of the short length of chain being removed from Dean’s pocket.  “You going to give me your hands, or do I gotta use the book?” Dean asked.

            Cas held out his hands, glaring up at Dean. “So you are going to sell me after all.”

            “Maybe.  We’re going to talk to someone anyway.”  Dean quickly attached the chain to Cas’s manacles, surprised at how cooperative the angel was suddenly being.  “You ok with that?”

            The angel shrugged.  “What does it matter?  I have no choice in it.  Besides, you already said you were going to sell me.”

            “Then I said I wouldn’t.”

            Cas was getting to his feet.  “Then I made the other one angry, the one who bought me. The two of you were yelling down the hall, and you both sounded extremely upset.  I couldn’t make out what you were saying, but I knew when you came back that you were going to beat me, sell me, or both.  Are we driving to St. Louis, then?”

            “No, actually, we’re going to meet someone in a park.”

            “A park?”  The angel’s face grew wistful.  “It’s been a long time since I was allowed outside.  For what it’s worth, I’m grateful.”

            That made Dean pause.  He fumbled a bit with the key before he was able to unlock and unclip Cas’s chain.  Then he led Cas out to the garage.

            As soon as Dean unlocked his baby, Cas was trying to move towards the back.  “Cas, what are you doing?”

            The manacled hands indicated the trunk. “Waiting for you to open it.”

            “Dude, I’m not putting you in the trunk!  Just get up front.”

            Cas squinted at him.  “I don’t understand.  Where’s my transport cage?”

            “Don’t have one, just get in the car.”

            “You’re putting me in the car?  Right in the front seat?”

            “Yes, now get in!”  Dean was feeling slightly nauseated.  That was something he’d forgotten, that slaves were usually transported in cages in the trunks of vehicles.  Now the odd looks they were getting at the auction when they loaded Cas into the back seat made sense.  Even if he'd wanted to cage Cas, no way a cage would fit among the arsenal in Baby’s trunk, but that didn’t matter.  The idea of a person curled up in a tiny cage in a dark trunk, bouncing as a car moved...? Dean shook his head.  Didn’t matter.  Pretty soon, Cas wouldn’t be his problem anymore.

            Dean took hold of Cas when the angel still hesitated, pushing him into the passenger seat with a bit more force than was necessary. Cas didn’t say anything, allowing Dean to close the door.  Dean took some deep breaths as he walked to the driver’s side.  By the time he was behind the wheel, he was back in control. Just a bit longer.  He could sell his unruly angel to Magnus and get his money back.  Plus, he’d have the satisfaction of knowing that somewhere, Magnus would no doubt be having just as much fun trying to control Cas as he and Sammy had been having. Dean could think of no one who deserved that more.  Cas and Magnus were a match made in heaven.  And meanwhile, Dean could use the money to finally give Sammy the kind of life he deserved.  His brother would have to forgive him eventually.

            The drive to the park took about an hour and a half.  Dean played his music the entire trip to avoid having to talk to Cas, but he needn’t have bothered.  The angel seemed fascinated.  He tried to look everywhere at once, noting the passing scenery, Dean’s driving, the various gauges on the dash, and the other cars on the road.  He was actually smiling a bit.  The sight of it brought a lump to Dean’s throat that wouldn’t go away. It only got worse when they arrived, pulled in next to the magician’s car and Dean got him out.  Castiel stood up and turned his face to the sky, visibly enjoying the feel of the sun on his skin.  He took a deep breath and gave the first real smile Dean had ever seen.  The sight of it made Dean feel slightly dizzy. “Thank you,” Cas said.  “It’s been years since I’ve felt the sun on my face.”

            “You’re welcome,” Dean managed.  He couldn’t tear his eyes off the angel’s face.  Cas’s eyes almost seemed to sparkle.  When he smiled, he was absolutely beautiful. What am I doing? Dean thought to himself.  What the hell am I doing?

            “Winchester!  Glad you made it!  And I see you’ve brought my angel.”

            “He’s not yours yet,” Dean cautioned.  His eyes were still on Cas.  The angel looked towards the sound of Magnus’s voice and his eyes widened in recognition.  The smile vanished.  Cas’s shoulders sagged, a look of resignation appeared on his face.  It was a complete reversal from the happiness Dean had just seen. His stomach did a flip.

            “Lovely, isn’t he?” Magnus was saying.  He walked right up to Cas and grabbed the angel’s chin, turning his head to face him.

            Cas glared and twisted his head out of the magician’s grasp.  “Don’t touch me!”

            Magnus tsked.  “Oh, Castiel, you haven’t changed a bit, have you?  I had hoped that someone would have taught you a few manners by now, but I suppose it was too much to ask.”

            “Wait, what are you saying?” Dean asked.  “You owned him before?”

            “I’m the one who originally captured and enslaved him,” Magnus explained.  “I sold him in a quite regrettable fit of anger after he’d managed to destroy several rare, priceless, and irreplaceable artifacts.  Since then, I’ve seen him come up for sale quite frequently and quickly realized that others were having the same sort of difficulties I’d been having. So I waited until the price was right. I should have had him for a mere $950,000!”

            “Yeah, well, price is a million and a half now,” Dean announced, expecting Magnus to argue.  That would give him time to think, sort things through in his head.

            “Sold!”  The magician snatched Castiel’s chain and gave the angel a tug.  Cas stumbled closer, grabbed the chain, and immediately began pulling back.  Magnus largely ignored him.  The bulk of his attention remained on Dean.  “I’ll assume you’re fine with having the money sent to the same account as before?”

            “Uh, I guess?”  Dean’s head was spinning.

            “Excellent!  I’ll have his spell book, then, ah, there it is, sticking out of your pocket.”  Deft fingers plucked the book from the pocket of Dean’s jacket.  “Let me just get my property into his cage, and we’ll sign the paperwork and finalize the transaction.”

            Cage.  Dean swallowed hard.  “Um, ok?”

            Dean stood as he was, watching as Magnus dragged the resisting angel towards the rear of his car, where the trunk was already open.  Sure enough, a cage was waiting.  Cas snarled and dug in his heels.  When Magnus jerked hard on his chain, Cas staggered forward, let go of his chain for a moment and swung his manacled hands.  One of his cuffs struck the left tail light, shattering it, and Magnus frowned. “That’s quite enough of that!”

            Magnus still appeared to remember all of Cas’s spells.  He only had to have the book in his pocket to be able to use it. Without glancing at its pages, he barked a command and Cas immediately dropped to his knees, holding his crossed hands above his head.  Dean could see the angel’s body tremble, see his muscles strain to free himself as Magnus quickly unlocked one of the chains on his wrist.  Dean blinked and felt in his pocket, finding the keys still there. Apparently, Magnus had kept another set of keys.

            Meanwhile, Cas had managed to break free of the spell. He was up, frantically pulling on his chain even as Magnus chanted another spell.  This time Cas turned and crossed his hands behind his back.  He was facing Dean now, but seemed to be looking right through him.  The eyes that had been so excited to see everything on his first car ride were now dull and resigned, even as Cas was gritting his teeth and straining to get free. By the time Cas broke out of the spell, his wrists had been chained behind him.

            Magnus gave a rough yank on the chain.  Cas gagged and fell back.  The magician caught him, pushing Cas against the back of the car until Cas was sitting in the cage with his legs over the edge of the trunk.  Magnus’s hands explored the angel’s body, slipping under Cas’s shirt to caress the muscular abdomen and chest.  “Perfect. I’ve missed you in my bed, Castiel.”

            Dean froze.

            Cas tried to slip off to the side and climb out of the cage.  “Take your hands off of me!”

            “I see we’re going to have to have another discipline session once we get home,” Magnus sighed, pushing him back.  “No matter.  You were always so beautiful when you were in pain!”

            Dean stopped breathing.

            “There’s no point!”  Cas was still struggling.  “You know I’ll never submit to you, and your spells can’t force me, so why are you buying me back?”

            “Ah, but you’re wrong.”  Magnus’s hand stroked the angel’s face, combed through Cas’s hair in a sick parody of a lover’s touch.  “I only needed a little time, and the answer came to me.  You’ll bow before me, Castiel, and you’ll do everything. I.  Want.”

            His fingers caught in Cas’s dark hair.  His other hand caught the angel’s chin, held Cas’s head still as Magnus kissed him.  Cas cried out, frantically trying to squirm free as the magician held him, forcing him to submit to the kiss.

            Dean saw red.  He was moving forward before he realized, shoving the surprised magician away. “Get off of him!”

            “Excuse me?”

            “I said, get off of him!”  Dean snatched the spell book back out of Magnus’s pocket and grabbed Cas’s chain.  “I changed my mind,” he called.  “No sale. I’m keeping him.”

            “Don’t be ridiculous!” Magnus snapped.  “Castiel is far too powerful for a mere hunter! You couldn’t possibly hope to control him!”

            “Yeah, well, that’s my problem.  Bottom line is that he’s my property, so keep your abracadabra off of him!”  Dean grabbed the angel’s arm, dragging him out of the cage and jerking him away from Magnus.  “C’mon, Cas, we’re leaving!”

            Cas was busy rubbing at his mouth with his shoulder.  He glared at Magnus, for once not protesting when Dean drew him to his side.

            Magnus rolled his eyes.  “You drive a hard bargain, Winchester.  Fine.  Two million, but no higher!  I can assure you, it’s the best offer you’ll ever get!”

            “He’s not for sale!  I told you, I’m keeping him, now flap your cape and disappear!”

            “Don’t be a fool!”  A finger pointed at Cas.  “Castiel belongs to me!  I captured him, I enslaved him, and only I have the power to ever really control him. He’s mine, and I will have him!  I warn you, Winchester, if you take my angel now, you will make a bad enemy of me.  Haven’t you already learned the folly of crossing a master magician?!”

            “Hey Amazing Mumford, don’t be such a sore loser,” Dean told him, pushing Cas back into the Impala.  “You’re not getting Cas.  He belongs to us, and if you try to fuck with us again, I will personally end you! Thank you, have a nice day!”

            Dean got into his baby and tore out, sending a satisfying spray of dirt and gravel back at the cursing magician.  For a time, he just drove, not saying a word.  Next to him, Cas was silent.  It wasn’t until Dean recovered enough to pull over to the side of the road that the angel finally spoke.

            “Thank you,” Cas said quietly.  “I’m not sure why you refused to sell me, or why you’d want to keep me now, but I do appreciate that you got him off of me.”

            “Castiel?” Dean began.  “You are a massive pain in my ass.  But the things he said, the way he touched you, kissed you?”  Dean shook his head.  “No one deserves that.”

            Cas blinked at him in surprise.  “But you were going to sell me!  And he told you that he’s the one who first captured me.  All of the spells in my book were written by him.  You said yourself that most of them were for, as you put it, weird sex shit.  You must have known what he’d want from me, so why does it surprise you that he’d do exactly what he did?”

            Dean sighed.  “I was wrong, ok?  I don’t know that I’m actually going to keep you, but I sure as hell am not selling you to him!  And yeah, I knew what he’d do to you.  I thought I could stomach it, but actually seeing him handle you?”  His hands tightened on the wheel.  “Magnus is a sick son of a bitch!  I can’t believe he kissed you!”

            “He’s done far worse than kiss me,” Cas pointed out quietly.  “He captured me and tried to make me submit to him with his spells.  When that didn’t work, he beat me.  And when that didn’t work either, he tied me down and took what he wanted anyway.  Everyone who’s bought me since then has followed the exact same course.  You were following it yourself.”

            “The hell I was!”

            “You were forcing me through my commands, trying to learn what you could magically compel me to do,” Cas reminded.  “Your reluctance to try my sexual commands is unusual, but when you fought with the other one and came back, I believed we’d already moved on to the beating stage.  You chose to try to sell me instead.  But the pattern still holds true.  Aside from you, everyone who has ever owned me has followed that same pattern.  And anyone else you sell me to now will likely be no different.”  The angel’s voice was soft.  “I refuse to submit, but you’re right.  Magnus made me a sex slave, and that’s what I’ll be to anyone who buys me.”

            “I know, but...  Ugh, I don’t know, Cas!  It’s just, you were so happy when you got to that park, and then Magnus started his shit and it’s like you went right back.”

            “Right back?”

            “Right back to the asshole you’ve been since we bought you and took you home,” Dean admitted.  “All this time, you’ve done nothing but fight and be suspicious and snarky.  But when we got to the park, you were a different person.  You were, I don’t know, sweet.  The way you smiled?  That’s the guy I’d like to get to know more.”

            “There’s not much left of him anymore,” Cas said softly.  His eyes were fixed on the horizon through the windshield. “The people who owned me?  They’ve degraded and beaten and raped most of him out of me.  But it’s for the best.  I am the way I am to survive, to not give in.  Because if I ever gave in, let them break me?  Then what hope is there left for me?”

            “Hope of freedom?”

            “Hope that eventually, one of my owners will kill me,” Cas corrected. “That’s the only real freedom I’ll ever have.”

            “Bullshit,” Dean announced.

            “You said yourself you’re not actually going to keep me.  You just didn’t want to sell me to him.  But anyone you sell me to is going to be no different than he is.  The best thing for me is if I can find a way to end it.  And right now, the best means I have at my disposal is to, as you put it, be a massive pain in the ass.  Every time I’m sold, I sell for less.  Eventually, my master will end me.  Then it will be over.”

            Dean shifted.  “Come on, buddy, don’t think that way!”

            “Why not?  I’m only a slave, property to be bought and sold!”

            “You’re more than that!”

            “You bought me,” Cas pointed out.  “And you still want to sell me.  To you, I’m nothing more than an investment you never wished to make.  Now all you want to do is get your money back by selling me.”

            “I...”  Dean shook his head.  “Look, Cas. You obviously get that I never wanted to buy you.  That was all Sammy.  But Sammy didn’t buy you because we want a slave of any kind, alright?  That fight you heard us have?  That happened because he didn’t want me to sell you, because he wanted to keep what I just saw from happening to you again.  And he was right!  We can’t let someone like him have you.”  Dean grimaced.  “Thing is, you’re also right that anyone else that we sell you to is going to be just like him.  So, looks like you’re ours, Cas.  I guess I’m keeping you after all.”

            Saying the words lifted a curious weight off of Dean’s chest.  His hands loosened a bit on the steering wheel, and he took a full, deep breath for the first time since Magnus called.  Weird.

            Dean glanced over, saw the angel doing the head tilt squint thing he did when he was confused about something.  His eyes were fixed on Dean.  “And what does that mean?”  Cas looked genuinely curious.  “What does it mean if you keep me instead of selling me?”

            “It means your life’s about to change, in a good way.  In fact, here, give me your hands.”

            Cas twisted a bit and presented his hands to Dean, who quickly unlocked and removed the short chain from his manacles.  Dean smiled, watching as the angel rolled his shoulders.  “I’ll make a deal with you, Cas,” he called.  “I still don’t feel safe enough to let you wander freely if one of us isn’t there to keep an eye on you.  And we got a hell of a long way for both of us to go before I’ll even consider taking the chain off of your collar.  But Sam and I will protect you.  We’ll keep Magnus and any other assholes that know what you are and want to hurt you away from you.  We’ll treat you with some respect, get you some real clothes, shoes, let you have some choices.  And I won’t even chain your hands again, so long as you agree to follow a few simple rules.”

            Cas cocked an eyebrow.  “And those rules would be?”

            “Number one, don’t run away.  And I’m not saying that just because you’re my property,” Dean amended, seeing Cas frown. “The Slave Law Enforcers are not people that you want to mess around with, alright?  Besides, you’ll get caught fast.  Your collar makes it pretty obvious you’re a slave.  You’re not strong at all, Cas, so you can’t really defend yourself.  But we’ll all get to know each other and find ways to help each other.  I’ll bet you’ll be real useful on hunts, right?  So stay with us until we can trust you, and we’ll unchain you completely.”

            “I don’t believe you,” Cas announced.  He indicated the chain.  “The man you just refused put this chain on me when he made me a slave.  I’ve been a slave for three years now, and no one has ever removed it.”

            “Yeah, the trust portion is clearly not there yet on either side,” Dean sighed.  “That’s fine. We’ll work on it.  Moving on.  Number two, don’t be such a dick.  We all got off to a bad start, so let’s start over, get to know each other a bit before we make judgements.  Respect us, and we’ll respect you.  And finally, I need you to at least try to trust us, Cas.  I just passed on two million dollars for you.  Now you said before that you first sold for seven million, so maybe that’s not much to you, but it’s more money than I’ll ever see in my life, and I said no!  And we’re not going to make you try to earn it back, either.  Sammy and I are not going to force ourselves on you, or touch you like he did, or do anything that you don’t want us to do.  So stop being so defensive all the time, alright?”

          The angel was quiet, considering this.  “And in exchange for all of this, you’ll keep me, you’ll stop chaining my hands, you’ll give me clothing and shoes, you’ll protect me, and you won’t try to force me into anything?”

            “We won’t try to force you into anything sexual,” Dean amended.  “Sammy’s got these big plans about freeing you, but we both know that’s not going to happen.”

            “At least you’re honest about it,” Cas grumbled.

            “Magnus was right that you’re too powerful for us, Cas.  And that?”  Dean indicated his collar.  “That thing looks pretty damned complicated, way more complicated than anything we’ve ever dealt with before.  I don’t think we’re going to be able to get it off, but I wouldn’t even if I could.  You’re an angel, Cas.  A monster.  I can’t just let you loose on the world because you’re bound to see things differently than humans and that never ends well.  We’ll keep you, try to earn your trust.  But eventually, we’re going to ask you to do something you don’t want to do to help us on a hunt or something.  When that happens, let’s be honest, we’re probably going to force you.”

            Cas’s jaw worked, his eyes clouded.  “Of course you will.”

            “But even at that point, I’ll give you my word we’ll try talking to you first, ok?” Dean offered.  “We won’t just command you the way Magnus did.  Unless it’s something vital, we won’t force you at all.  We own you, Cas, but I’d much prefer a partnership!”

          “That’s fair,” Cas said.  “Your honesty is appreciated.  Can I ask for one more boon?”

            “Sure?”

            “Stop trying to learn to command me.”

            Dean blinked.  “Huh? Cas, I told you I’m not going to make you do any of the sex stuff!”

            “All of those commands are a violation,” Cas explained quietly.  “They take away all of my choice, force me to obey. You saw how easily Magnus was able to control me.  He is, by far, the worst, but every owner, including you, has used that book to command me.  It’s awful! I’m sorry I upset you, but the idea of anyone else knowing all of the things they can force me to do?”  He shook his head.  “I can’t tolerate that.”

            “But some of those commands unlock your powers,” Dean pointed out.  “Like the one to heal?  Cas, Sammy and I, you know that we’re hunters.  Having the power of an angel at our backs would be a huge help, but as you are right now...?”

            “I see.”  The angel thought for a moment.  “Alright. I’ll tell you the commands that will allow me to use my powers to help your hunting, on the condition that you ask my permission to use them.  Don’t just force me anymore, and I’ll help you.”

            Dean nodded.  “I think we have a deal.”

            And once again, Cas smiled.  “Thank you, master.”

            “Dean,” Dean corrected.  “Don’t call us master, Cas.  Our names are Sam and Dean Winchester.”

            “Dean, then.  Thank you, Dean Winchester.”


	6. Destiny

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam, Dean, and Cas finally talk about their pasts, and what brought them to this point

            Sammy looked rough when Dean found him.  But a look of indescribable relief flooded his features when he saw the angel being led in behind Dean.  “Cas! I’m so glad to see you!” he said. “Thank you for not selling him, Dean.”

            “Cas and I came to a bit of an agreement,” Dean called.  He climbed into a chair, handed Cas his chain, and indicated for Cas to join them.  “We’re going to keep him, Sammy.  I told him that we’d take the chain off his wrists so long as he makes an effort to stop being a dick, that we wouldn’t make him do any freaky sex stuff, and that we wouldn’t command him except to let him use his powers on a hunt, after we’ve discussed it with him.”

            “There are a few commands that might be useful for that,” Cas agreed.  He quickly wrapped the chain around himself and climbed into the chair.  “I believe I may be of assistance in monster hunting.”

            Sam’s smile lit up the room.  “Yes, that’s exactly what I want to do, and more!  Right from the moment I bought you, all I wanted was to set you free.”

            Cas frowned at him.  “You wanted to feel me.”

            “No, Cas, I didn’t!” Sam groaned.  “When I asked you how you felt, I was asking you about your emotions, if you were sad or upset or anything like that!  I would never put my hands on you!  I’m an abolitionist.  I think the slave trade as a whole is sickening, but putting chains on an angel? The only thing I can imagine worse than that would be seeing Dean in chains!”

            Now Cas was regarding Sam like a fascinating new species from another planet. “You didn’t intend to feel me up, then? You were asking about my... feelings?”

            “Yes!”

            “Why?”

            “Because I wanted to help you,” Sam explained patiently.  “I wanted to know if you were scared or hurt, so that I could try to help you.  I wanted you to feel safe.”

            “Why?”  The angel was looking from one brother to the other, confusion evident on his face. “I’m a slave.  You own me.  Who cares about my feelings?”

            “Obviously, Sammy cares,” Dean pointed out.  “Like he said, he wanted you to feel safe.”

            “Safe?”  Cas scoffed. “You bought me at an auction, and he was trying to learn what my commands did.  The last thing I felt was safe!”

            “And now?” Sam pressed.  “Do you feel safe now?”

            “Of course not!  We talked, but I’m not so sure I can believe what he said.  Maybe you didn’t sell me this time, but everyone sells me sooner or later.”  His shoulders slumped.  “And eventually, you’ll hurt me.  It’s only a matter of time.”

            “Why don’t you try trusting us a little bit?” Sam offered.  “Give us a chance to prove we won’t hurt you?”

            “That’s what Dean wanted.”

            “Dean wan...”  Sam did a double-take.  “Wait! You called him Dean!  That’s great, Cas!  That’s a huge step!”

            Cas shrugged.  “I had a master who wanted me to call him ‘Daddy.’  Dean said you preferred Sam.  I’ll call you whatever you wish.  And I’ll trust you.  I don’t have much choice, in the end.”  His voice was soft, his eyes seeming to rest on the manacles at his wrists.  “The two of you, you’re different than my other masters. They all would have beaten me by now. And Dean didn’t sell me to Magnus. I want to believe you when you say you’ll keep me, and that you won’t hurt me.  But I don’t know if I can.”

            “We get it.”  Dean shifted awkwardly.  “What do you say I make a light supper and we all call it a night?”

            “Sounds good,” Sam agreed.  “I’d like to talk for a bit with Castiel about some things I found in my research. If you don’t mind?”

            The angel startled.  “You’re asking me?  Oh! Um, no, I guess I don’t mind.”

            Dean left the two of them to Sammy’s nerdness and headed into the kitchen.  He and Cas had stopped for burgers along the way, where Cas had told him he didn’t eat.  In retrospect, he didn’t recall seeing Cas taking anything for himself from the bacon, scrambled eggs, and toast he’d prepared for breakfast this morning despite telling Cas to help himself, but at the time he’d been more focused on Cas’s spells and Sammy had already begun his descent into psychology. Neither one of them had really paid attention to what, if anything, the angel had eaten.  Presented with a burger and Dean’s order to eat, Cas had informed Dean that he had no need to eat.  Dean had ended up eating both burgers, which was a bit much even for him, but he couldn’t let a good burger go to waste.  Now he knew enough to make food only for himself and Sammy.  Let Cas explain the whole “angels don’t eat” thing to Sammy.

            Unfortunately for Dean, the shaggy-haired bitch either already knew angels didn’t eat or didn’t question it.  He’d eaten without a word for Cas’s lack of a setting at the table, still talking runes and sigils and magical bindings with Cas.  Dean listened without contributing, waiting for Sammy to reach the same conclusion Dean had already come to.  But apparently, Sam wasn’t ready to admit that they simply didn’t have the power to free Cas.  So far, Sam’s studies had taught him that strong enough runes and sigils could control pretty much any monster, and the ones on Castiel’s collar and manacles were complex and powerful.  But so far, all he would admit to was that freeing Cas would be difficult, at best.

            “Our best bet is to find a skilled magical practitioner,” Sammy said.

            “Too bad the most skilled one we know is more interested in feeling Cas up than helping him,” Dean grunted between bites.

            Sam’s eyebrows shot up.  “Feeling him up?!”

            Dean hummed.  “Held him still and kissed him, too.  Bastard even threatened to beat him, right before he rapes him!”

            “Did you kill him?”  Sam sounded hopeful.

            “No, and that was probably a mistake,” Dean sighed.  “At the time, I wasn’t ready to take on a master magician and was more concerned with getting Cas the hell away from him than anything else.”

            Sam winced.  “You made the right choice.  Cas, I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”

            “I’ve had worse,” Cas said quietly.  “It would have gotten worse, had he taken me back to his home.  He had a room where he used to punish me.  It was... most unpleasant.  But it was preferable to what he would do to me once he tied me to his bed.”

            Silence fell, both brothers staring in horror at Castiel.  “Castiel?” Sam called.  “You are never going through that again!”

            “Yeah, I guess it’s official,” Dean sighed.  “We’re definitely keeping you, buddy.”

            “Of course we’re keeping you!  But only until we find a way to free you,” Sam amended, ignoring the look Dean was giving him, “and then you can go back to Heaven again!”

            “I can’t go back to Heaven,” Cas corrected.  “I failed in my mission.  That’s why I was hurt when Magnus found me, because I’d been beaten and thrown out of Heaven.”

            “What was your mission?” Dean asked.

            Cas glanced towards him, and then quickly looked away.  “It doesn’t matter.”

            “No, tell us,” Sam urged.  “Maybe we can help?”

            The angel looked uncomfortable.  “There was a man I was supposed to secure for the archangel Michael,” he explained, speaking carefully.  “A righteous man.  We’d invested a great deal of resources into making sure he was born and manipulating him into a situation where we could use him.  My job was to make sure that happened.  But he was clever, resourceful beyond our expectations.  I saw that he would succeed in avoiding his fate, and I could have interfered.  I didn’t. As a result, he escaped the fate Heaven had planned for him.  And for that, I was punished.  I was beaten, cast down, banished from Heaven.  That’s how Magnus was able to capture me.”

            “Holy shit!” Dean exclaimed.  “So basically, you got cast out of Heaven and ended up a slave because you wouldn’t ruin some poor sap’s life?!”

            When Cas nodded, Sam shook his head.  “Castiel, that is incredible!  We should find this guy and let him know!  I bet he’d want to help you.  Who is he?”

            “It doesn’t matter.”  Cas’s eyes were fixed on the table now.  “The righteous man has escaped his destiny for now, but Michael will still want him. The next angel assigned to the task won’t fail the way I did.”  He paused. “I don’t know for certain why I failed. When he stumbled over the secret that would help him escape his fate, I could have stopped him.  It would have been simple for me to do it.  But in the end, I simply stood by and let things play out.”

            “Did you know you’d be punished?” Sam asked.

            Cas nodded.

            “But you did it anyway.”

            Another nod.

            “Why?” Dean wanted to know.  “What was so special about this righteous guy?”

            “His soul,” Cas answered.  His eyes were still fixed on the table, his voice a whisper.  “It was... beautiful.  When I was called to explain my actions, all I could say for myself was that I didn’t feel that beautiful soul deserved to suffer the way it would if everything went according to plan.  I suppose it’s fitting, then, that I have suffered in that soul’s stead.”

            Dean and Sam exchanged a look.  “Hey,” Dean began, “Sammy and I have done some pretty shitty things to cheat fate. Long story, but when Sammy died, I made a deal with a crossroads demon, gave up my soul to bring him back to life.  I knew in a year the hellhounds would come for me.  Didn’t seem like there was anything I could do to stop it, but we found out about this place.  When we searched the library here, we found a spell that would send me to Purgatory.”

            “It was the only place the hellhounds couldn’t find him,” Sam added. “It was dangerous, sending Dean to an afterlife filled with monsters, especially since he’d put so many of them there!  But it bought us the time we needed to figure out the rest.  We found a way to temporarily trap a soul from Purgatory, attach it to the hellhound, and send it back to Hell in place of Dean’s soul.”

            “But that would mean condemning some poor soul to Hell in my place,” Dean admitted. “I found a vampire down there, Benny, who helped me survive.  And meanwhile, Sammy and our friend Bobby got together with another hunter buddy of ours, a skinny guy named Garth who was so invested in trying to find a way to save me that he got careless on a hunt and got himself turned into a werewolf.”

            “That was the missing ingredient,” Sam explained.  “A monster we could trust!  Garth being a monster meant we could use his soul to communicate with Dean in Purgatory.”

            “And meanwhile, Benny and I had come up with the perfect thing to trap and send to Hell,” Dean said.  “A leviathan! Those sons of bitches were making Purgatory Hell anyway, why not let them try it in the real thing?  So long story short, Benny and I managed to lure and trap a leviathan, and we were able to draw me, Benny, and our little treat through to Earth.  Of course the hellhounds came for me immediately, but Bobby was all set with that spell.  We latched the leviathan onto one of ‘em, they took that slimy son of a bitch down to Hell, and from what we’ve heard?  Hell has been one very interesting place to spend eternity ever since! That leviathan turned the place into its own personal all-you-can-eat buffet, snacking on demons to its heart’s content.  Couldn’t have worked out better.”

            “No, it couldn’t,” Cas replied.  The angel gave a slight smile, but still wouldn’t look up.

            “But here’s the problem,” Dean continued, suddenly serious.  “Sammy and Bobby don’t know for sure, and Garth insists it was an accident, but I don’t believe it.  Garth’s a skinny little shit that no one would ever believe was a hunter. But the fact that he just happened to get himself turned into a werewolf right when Bobby and Sammy desperately needed a way to communicate with me in Purgatory?"  Dean shook his head.  "I believe that Garth did it on purpose.  He let himself be turned, threw his own life away to save me from Hell. Now he is what he’s been hunting. He’s been out with Benny, monsters hunting monsters.  We’ve been spreading the word, so most hunters know to leave them alone or they’ll be dealing with us.  He and Benny are good friends and he seems happy enough, but Garth gave up his humanity, condemned himself to an eternity in Purgatory, to save me from Hell.  And every single time I look at him, I remember that, Cas.  So yeah. I’m sorry for what happened to you, but you made the right choice.  Believe me, you do not want to live with the knowledge that someone else suffered to save you!”

            “No,” Cas said quietly.  “I suppose not.”


	7. Tears In Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean has a nightmare, which results in an overdue chat with Castiel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings, read at your own risk

            Cas was shivering when Dean took the angel into his room again and chained him up to his headboard again.  Dean indicated the recliner.  “Relax. I’ll get you a blanket, get you warmed up.”

            “The temperature is fine, thank you.”

            Dean raised an eyebrow.  Then he took another look at the angel.  Cas’s face was pale.  His arms were wrapped tightly around himself.  His eyes seemed far away, lost and full of distress.  As Dean watched, another shiver – no, it was a full-body shudder – went through him.  “Cas? You ok?”

            “I’m alright,” Cas said quietly.  He climbed into the recliner and seemed to curl in on himself.

            Dean frowned.  “You sure? You seem kind of, well...”

            “I told you, I’m alright.  Please leave me alone.”

            Dean eyed him, torn.  Cas was obviously not alright.  Now the angel was lying on his side in the fetal position in the recliner.  Dean didn’t care at all for the lost, stricken look in his eyes, or the way yet another shudder rocked his body.  Cas was clearly in distress, but what could he do? Dean licked his lips.  “Cas, what Magnus did...”

            “I would prefer not to discuss it.”

            “Right.”  Of course he didn’t want to discuss it.  Why would he? Feeling stupid and useless, Dean climbed into his bed.  “Um, you can wake me up if, you know, you need anything?”

            “I will be fine.  Thank you.”

            “Sure.”  Dean sighed and pulled up his covers.  “Night, Cas.”

            “Good night, Dean.”

***

            Fingers dug into Dean’s arm, holding him in place when he desperately wanted to be anywhere else.  He could hear the sound of Sammy crying even over the cheers and yells of encouragement from the crowd.  But none of these sounds could drown out the cries from the raised stage where the correction was taking place.

            “Please!” Dean cried, his youthful voice cracking.  “Dad, please, you have to stop this!”

            “She’s a runaway slave,” John announced.  The man’s face could have been carved from stone.  “This is what happens to runaways.  High time she, and the two of you, learned that!”

            There was nothing Dean could do.  Horrified, he watched as the last Enforcer stepped away from the sobbing figure in the correction rack.  It was over. It had to be over.  But then another Enforcer stepped forward, holding a long black whip in hand, and Dean understood that this was far from over.

            “Lovely, isn’t he?”

            Dean looked over and saw Magnus.  The magician was standing, smiling down at a bed.  Cas was naked, lying face down on the bed, his arms and legs tied to the four posts.  The angel was crying, muffling the near-silent sobs into the pillow.  Dean could only watch as Magnus reached down, grabbed Cas’s hair and dragged his face up for a kiss.  Cas struggled wildly, and Dean snarled.  “Leave him alone!”

            “No,” Magnus told him.  “Only I can control him.  Castiel belongs to me, and I will have him, one way or another!”  Then he stepped towards the helpless angel, ignoring the sobs Cas was trying to muffle as his hands moved to undo his pants.

            Dean tried to move forward, tried to fight to save Cas.  But his father’s fingers still dug into his arm.  He was still a child.  And up on stage, a shriek rang out as the whip came cracking down against unprotected flesh.

            But suddenly, everything shifted.  There was a sound like a flock of birds taking off, and Dean was somewhere else.  He was sitting in a chair at the end of a long wooden pier with a fishing rod in his hand.  It was a perfect autumn day.  The still, peaceful water stilled the disquiet in his soul.

            “This is a good place for you.”

            Dean looked up and saw Cas.  The angel was standing just behind his right shoulder.  He wore a tan trench coat over a business suit and tie.  The outfit made Cas look like an accountant, but somehow, it felt more natural, more right, than anything Dean had seen him wear so far. “Yeah,” Dean told him.  “This is nice.”

            “I’m glad.  You were very troubled by your dream,” Cas told him.  “But I was surprised to see you were upset over a dream about me.”

            “Why wouldn’t I be?”  Dean frowned, tightening his grip on the fishing rod.  “That bastard hurt you, Cas.  He had no right to hurt you!”

            “He had every right to hurt me.  I’m a slave. He could do whatever he wished to me. Anyone could.”

            “And if you try to run away, then the Enforcers would get you!”  Dean shuddered.  “Dad took me and Sammy out to the Slave Law Enforcement building and made us watch one of his slaves go through a correction.  Sammy, he was just a kid!  He thought if he took her collar off, it meant she was free.  So when dad found out the Enforcers caught her, instead of stopping it, he took us out and made us watch.  It was...”  Dean swallowed.  “It was awful, Cas.  And it’s the reason that I never wanted to own another slave.  Sammy and I, neither one of us is comfortable with slaves. But Sammy wants to free them and I, well, I just don’t want to be around them.”

            “I see.”  Cas’s face was expressionless.

            Dean wound in his line, feeling uneasy.  This dream was so startlingly realistic, he wasn’t sure what to do.  He could actually feel the rod in his hands, the chair he was sitting in.  He could even feel a faint damp breeze coming from the lake.  But oddly enough, the one thing in the dream that seemed most dreamlike was Castiel.  For some reason, all of his instincts were on high alert, as though Cas represented some sort of vague threat.  Dean shifted.

            “There is no need for you to feel uncomfortable,” Cas was saying.  “You own me.  I’m your property.  If you want to sell me, it’s your right.”

            “No, Cas, I don’t want to sell you.  I guess I’m just asking you to be patient with me.”  Dean scoffed.  “I don’t know what the hell’s the matter with me, thinking about my hang-ups over slavery when you’re the one who just went through that shit with Magnus.”

            Cas cocked his head.  “Magnus?”

            Dean eyed him.  “Yeah, the bastard who wants to buy you and was putting his hands all over you and shoving his tongue down your throat yesterday?”

            “Ah. Well, perhaps you should sell me to him, then.  He’s obviously interested, so I imagine he would give you a good price for me.  Then you wouldn’t have to be around a slave any longer.”

            Now Dean was frowning.  That vague uneasiness he had towards Cas was growing stronger by the second.  “Cas, why are you acting so weird?”

            “What do you mean?”

            “Yeah, what do I mean?”  Dean sighed. “I’m asking you in a dream why you’re acting weird.  Because it’s a dream, duh!”

            “Of course.”  Cas looked around.  “Where are you right now?”

            “Oh, this is a lake where...”

            “No, not in your dream.  I mean now. Where are you?”

            Dean blinked.  “I’m in my bed at the bunker, where else?”

            “Of course.”  Cas stepped a little closer.  “And where, exactly, is this bunker?”

            “Ok, this is weird even for a dream.”  Dean put down his fishing rod and got up.  “Sorry, dream Cas, but you’re kind of giving me weird vibes, so I’m going to just head into the next dream.”

            “You’re not going anywhere.”

            This dream was getting ugly now.  Cas had grabbed Dean by the collar and lifted him completely off of his feet. Once again, it felt eerily realistic. He could feel the supernatural strength in the angel’s arms, the way the collar of his shirt and jacket bunched up in Cas’s fists.  Not good. Dean clung to the angel’s hand. “Cas?  Put me down!”

            Cas gave him a shake.  “Tell me where you are!  Tell me!”

            “I...  I’m...”

            “Dean!”

            Castiel’s voice seemed to come from everywhere at once except where it should have originated.  Cas’s voice was all around him, but dream Cas’s mouth didn’t move.  Instead, dream Cas suddenly blazed with light and vanished.

            Dean opened his eyes with a gasp.

            He was lying in his bed in the bunker in the darkness, and he wasn’t alone. A hand was rapidly withdrawing from his chest.  Fortunately, years of hunting had honed Dean’s reflexes.  He grabbed the retreating hand, scrambling out of bed to pounce on the intruder.

            The owner of the hand was taken completely by surprise.  He gasped and was thrown to the ground, accompanied by a loud rattle of chain.  “Dean! Stop!”

            Dean blinked.  “Cas?”

            Cas glared up at him from the floor where Dean had just pinned him.  “Get off me!”

            “Oh, shit!  Sorry!”

            “You are an angry sleeper,” Cas complained, shoving at Dean as the hunter gingerly got up.  “You’re like a bear!  Why did you attack me?”

            “I’m sorry,” Dean said humbly as he helped the angel up.  “I was asleep, and you touched me...  Why did you touch me?”

            “Because you were clearly in the midst of a nightmare.  Now that I know you’re prone to attacking those who try to offer you comfort, I’ll take more care in the future.”

            “Yeah, ok, I deserved that,” Dean sighed.  He switched on the light and glanced at the time.  Four am.  Great. No way he was getting up this early. Dean adjusted the scattered linens in his bed, determined to go back to sleep.  “Listen, Cas, I’m sorry, alright?  I didn’t mean to lash out.  I’m a hunter. I’m kind of conditioned to wake up fighting, you know?”

            Cas snorted.

            “Still, I’m really glad you woke me up,” Dean admitted.  “So far as nightmares go, that was one of the tougher ones. And it was so realistic!  And it was weird, too.  You kept telling me to sell you, and then you were trying to get me to tell you where I was.”

            Cas suddenly stiffened.  “You didn’t tell me, did you?”

            “Um, no, you woke me up first,” Dean replied, mystified.

            “You mustn’t tell me, Dean!”  The urgency in Cas’s face and voice surprised Dean.  “Me, or anyone else who appears to you in a dream like that.  You’ll know, you’ll sense that the person you’re speaking with isn’t who they seem to be.  If it happens again, you’ve got to wake up!  No matter what, you can’t tell anyone where you are!”

            “Ok, dude, you are making no sense at all now,” Dean sighed.  “But I guess you’re allowed to make no sense.  After what you’ve been through?  How about we forget about me and my stupid dreams, and focus instead on your reality?”

            Immediately, Cas’s eyes became guarded.  “My reality is that, once, I could have entered your dreams and protected you from the things that haunt your sleep.  But now?”  He indicated his collar.

            “You can see my dreams?”

            “I could once.  For ages, my kind have used dreams to communicate with humans.  But I can’t anymore, not since Magnus locked my powers away.”

            “Yeah,” Dean said softly.  “The things I dreamed Magnus was doing to you, you lived through them.  From him, and from the other people who’ve bought you. Every one of them abused you.”

            Cas had settled back into his recliner.  Now he drew his knees to his chest, wrapping his arms defensively around them.  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

            “I get that, Cas, but that’s not really a healthy response, to bottle everything up,” Dean urged.  “Trust me, I know.  That’s exactly what I tend to do.  It’s never worked out for me.”

            “What would you have me do?” Cas asked, irritably.  “Cry?”

            “Sure, why not?  I mean, that’s the natural response, after you’ve been sexually assaulted!”  He sat on the edge of his bed, considering his words. “Earlier tonight, you kept shaking. And you’re doing that again now. See?  You just did it!  I know that what happened to you today wasn’t nearly what you probably expected.  But it affected you all the same.”

            Cas looked troubled.  “It’s strange,” he admitted.  “Humans have an expression, waiting for the other shoe to drop?  I think that’s what I’m doing.  I’m having a great deal of difficulty believing that you or Sam won’t pick up where he left off.  I don’t want to be touched, hurt like that again, but it would almost be a relief.”

            “Yeah, I think this is kind of the same thing it was when you insisted we punish you for sandpapering my baby,” Dean sighed.  “Sammy could explain this better, but you were braced for the absolute worst.  You’re so used to being hurt that you don’t know what to do when it doesn’t happen. So this, the way you’re shuddering, what you’re feeling now?  That’s ok. It’s just you trying to deal with what happened to you, now that you’re finally safe.”

            “Safe?  You still own me.  You’ve chained me to your bed!”

            “Yeah, and I hope that soon we can trust each other enough that I don’t have to chain you up anymore.  For now, though, you’re safe.  And I think, for the first time, you’re really having to face what happened to you, what you’ve been through.  You’re not having to deal with it happening again, so now, for the first time, you have to face up to how you feel about it.  And that’s got to be almost as bad as having it happen.”

            “In a way, it’s worse,” Cas admitted.  His eyes were blank.  “When my owners hurt me, I knew that it wouldn’t go on forever, that it would stop and they’d leave me alone.  But this?” He shuddered violently.  “I can’t seem to stop this, or keep it in!”

            “Cas, you don’t have to bottle things up.  You’re safe here.  You’re allowed to feel hurt, to express your emotions.  If that means a crying spell, that’s fine.”

            Cas looked troubled.  “I never have, cried, I mean.  For three years, I have been used as a sex slave.  I’ve been beaten until I couldn’t stand, raped until I believed I would be torn in two, humiliated on a daily basis.  But tonight, when you brought me in here?”  He shuddered again.  “I’d expected, the next time I was taken into a bedroom, that I’d be raped again.  It didn’t happen.  I’m glad, but at the same time, it almost seems wrong.”

            “It’s what you’ve come to expect,” Dean stressed.

            Cas nodded.  “Perhaps you’re right.  By now, I would have expected to be feeling nothing but pain.  That didn’t happen.  But I can’t seem to rid myself of the memory of his hands on me, of the way he k-kissed me.”

            At this first break in the angel’s facade, Dean sucked in his breath.  “Cas, he will never touch you again.  I’ll kill the bastard first!”

            Now the rapid full-body shudders Dean had noticed earlier were back in force. “It’s like he’s still touching me,” Cas explained.  “I can’t get away from him.  I don’t understand.  Why is this happening?”

            Dean crouched down next to Cas’s chair.  “Cas, that’s only human!”

            “I’m not human.  I’m an angel, a celestial being.”

            “Well, you know what I mean.  It’s natural. Someone touched you in a way you didn’t want to be touched.  That’s a violation, buddy, especially when he was threatening to do, you know, other shit. I just had a hellacious nightmare that I know damned well is at least partially related to the shit he said today. You saved me from the rest of it and I repaid you by knocking you on your ass!  But you’re the one who’s been living the real nightmare.  What you’ve been through?  Cas, I can’t even imagine what you must be feeling right now!”

            Dean felt like an idiot, but Cas seemed to be listening.  He’d shifted in his chair, rolling onto his back and turning a troubled face towards Dean.  “I didn’t want him to touch me.  I never wanted him to touch me.  But from the moment he chained me, he owned me and made sure I knew it.  When he tried to take me back, it brought up a lot of bad memories that I would have preferred stayed buried.  Sitting here, alone in the dark, those memories returned. I kept feeling his hands on me from today, and then I could feel those same hands holding me down.  And I’d remember him kissing me.  He always kissed me.  Even when he took me to that room, he kept kissing me.”  His eyes squeezed shut.  “I don’t want to remember what he did to me, Dean.  Even when he’d torture me, I preferred that to what he did to me in his bedroom.  The way he would hold me, caress me, kiss me, tell me that I’d like it if I’d just stop fighting?”  Cas shook his head.  “I never liked it, Dean!  Never! I just wanted him to stop!”

            “And you went through this, all of this, because you chose to sacrifice yourself to save someone else,” Dean realized.  “I hope this righteous guy realizes just how much you sacrificed, what you’ve been through, for him.  I hope he’s worth it, Cas.”

            “I don’t know that,” Cas admitted.  “But I think, maybe, he is.  I have to believe that, that the righteous man is worth everything that I’ve suffered, everything that I’ll still suffer.  It’s all I have left to cling to.”

            “I hear you.  And now here you are, trying to keep me from having some stupid nightmare, when the real nightmare has been your life for the past three years.”

            Cas shook his chain, making it rattle.  “That nightmare hasn’t ended.  And it won’t, not until everything ends.”

            Dean didn’t know what to say.  Part of him wanted to excuse himself, race to his brother’s room, and get Sammy in here with all his self-help and trauma therapy bullshit.  What, exactly, did you say to someone who had gone through what Cas had and was still a slave, living under the constant threat of it happening again?  Dean hesitated.  “Look, me being right here when you’re feeling like this has got to suck. There’s other rooms in the bunker that we don’t use.  I can chain you up in one of them, and then you wouldn’t have to worry about me being right there.  Would that be better, if I left you alone like that?”

            Cas gave a little gasp of dismay.  “No!” he cried.  “Please don’t chain me up in another room and leave me alone.  Let me stay with you!  Please, I’ll be quiet, just don’t leave me alone.  Please, Dean!  I don’t want to be alone, I can’t, I...”

            “Cas!”  Dean grabbed the angel’s arm without thinking.

            Cas responded by crying out in alarm and leaping to his feet.  His chain abruptly caught him.  Immediately, panic overtook his features.  With another cry, Cas started struggling, jerking frantically on the chain.

            “Cas!  Come on!” Dean jumped up and wrapped his arms around the angel.

            Cas immediately froze.  He whimpered, saying something in another language as his body shook.  Dean tightened his arms.  “Cas, it’s ok.  You gotta stop.  You’re safe. Magnus isn’t here, and neither are any of the rest of those assholes who hurt you, see?  It’s just me.  You’re safe. You’re safe.”

            It became a mantra, Dean whispering “You’re safe” over and over.  But it was working.  The angel sagged, going limp in Dean’s arms.  Dean carefully maneuvered him back into the chair.  But when he moved to let go, Cas’s hand shot out, caught Dean’s wrist.  Dean paused. “Um, Cas?”

            “Please don’t leave me alone.”

            Dean opened his mouth to remind Cas that he was right there, that the chair was right next to his bed only a few feet away.  But then his intuition caught up, whispered that Cas needed something more.

            Dean hovered, unsure of himself.  “Um, I don’t want to upset you more.  Can I touch you, put my arms around you again?”

            “Why?” Cas asked, instantly suspicious even as his hand tightened on Dean.

            “It’s a human thing.  When we’re upset, it helps to have someone hold us.  It makes us feel comfortable and safe.  I know you’re a celestial angel and all, but...  Can I try it?  I swear I won’t hurt you, Cas.  I just want to put my arms around you.”

            Cas went silent and still.  Dean took a chance and carefully slipped his wrist free, making sure he kept touching Cas the entire time.  Then he put his arms around the angel.  When Cas still didn’t move, Dean tightened them, drawing the trembling angel against his chest.  “It’s ok, Cas,” he whispered.  “See?  It’s alright.  Just let it out.  No one’s going to hurt you.”

            It was like the opening of a door, like Cas was somehow simply waiting for permission.  The angel sobbed, tears flowing unchecked down his face.  “I can’t do this anymore, Dean!” Cas whispered.  “I’m so tired.  I just want it to end!”

            The angel was leaning into Dean’s embrace now.  Dean held him close, feeling Cas press his face into his shoulder, feeling the dampness in his sleeping shirt as tears soaked through the thin fabric.  He felt like a complete and total piece of shit.  This was a side of Cas he’d never expected to see.  What had happened to the rebellious, resistant, snarky angel? What had happened to all of Cas’s fire and sass?  Now there was only this pitiable, frightened, despairing slave so desperate for a way out that death seemed like the only option.  Dean’s heart ached. 

            But Cas seemed to catch himself.  He wiped angrily at his face, twisting away from Dean.  “Let me go.”

            Dean frowned.  “You sure that’s what you want?”

            “Yes.  Well, I... You’ll be here, right?”

            “Yeah, buddy, I’ll be right here.”

            Cas shifted.  “Can I move the chair closer to your bed?”

            Dean patiently dragged the recliner, positioning it so that it was pressing against the bed.  Cas pushed it a couple more times, shoving it into the side of the bed even though it was already in direct contact.  Then he climbed into it.

            Dean climbed into his bed.  “Good night, Cas.”

            “Yes, good night, Dean.”

            Dean switched off the lamp.  His heart was pounding.  This new, unexpectedly vulnerable side of Cas was doing things to him.  Dean wanted nothing more than to go find Magnus, drag him out of his stupid Fortress of Solitude by his testicles and throw him down at Cas’s feet to apologize over and over for ever even thinking about putting his hands on Dean’s beautiful angel.  The next time Dean saw that fucker, he was putting a bullet in him.

            Next to him, he could hear the recliner shift as Cas changed his position, followed by silence.  “Dean?”

            “Yeah?”

            “Could you come a little closer?”

            “Sure.”  Dean scooted closer to the chair and was surprised to discover that Cas had moved until he was sitting on the arm of it, as close as he could get to Dean’s bed without actually being in it.  Dean frowned in the darkness.  Apparently, Cas wasn’t quite done with the freaking out just yet.

            “Dean?”

            “Yeah, Cas?”

            “Could you maybe move just a bit closer?”

            Dean blinked.  “Cas, I’m on the edge of the bed, pressed up against your chair!  The only way I get closer is if I climb into that chair with you!”

            “Oh.”  Cas went silent for a moment.  Then in the darkness came a tiny whisper.  “You couldn’t do that then, could you?”

            Dean took a deep breath and let it out.  “You need me to hold you again, Cas?”

            “I don’t want anyone to touch me the way he did,” the tiny whisper replied. “But when you were holding me?  I couldn’t feel his hands anymore.”

            Nope.  Dean had no need of his heart.  He stifled a groan.  Then he reached up, caught his surprised angel around his waist, and dragged Cas into the bed.

            Immediately, Cas panicked and tried to pull himself free.  “No, Dean!  No, please, let me go, I can’t!  Not you, too!”

            “Cas, calm down,” Dean called, tightening his grip.

            “No!”  Cas thrashed frantically.  “Not tonight, please!  Let me go!”

            “Cas!”  Dean hated to raise his voice, but he had to get through Cas’s panic.  “I’m not going to hurt you.  I will never, ever force myself on you.  You know this, right?”

            “Y-yes,” Cas replied after a moment’s thought.

            “I’m asking you to trust me.  There’s not enough room for us both in that chair, but if this is what you need to stop remembering the way he touched you, then this is what we’re going to do.  Just lie here on the bed with me.  I promise, I won’t hurt you or force you into anything you don’t want.  All I want to do is hold you.  And if that’s too much for you, just say the word and I’ll let you go.  I promise.”

            Cas hesitated.  His breathing quickened, his anxiety skyrocketing as Dean used one arm to pull the blankets over them both.  Then he once more held Cas in his arms.  “I’m just going to hold you,” Dean assured, pulling his traumatized angel close. “That’s all.  Relax, Cas.  I’ve got you. You’re safe.”

            Degree by steady degree, Dean could feel Cas’s body relax.  Now he was clinging to Dean, hands clutching the arms that were tight around his waist.  Cas took a deep breath.  “Please don’t hurt me?”

            “I won’t.  I promise.”

            “Then let me go.”

            Dean swallowed his disappointment and immediately let Cas go.  But Cas didn’t get up.  Instead he turned, twisting around in the bed and then snuggling up into Dean’s chest.  Cas’s arm went around Dean, the other hand clutched in Dean’s shirt as they lay facing each other. He was pressing up against Dean again, full body this time with no regard for what might be touching where. Of course.  Dean had already figured out that despite being used for sex, Cas was actually starved for touch.  Dean held him, letting his hand rub gentle stripes up and down Cas’s back. “It’s ok,” Dean whispered. “You’re safe.”

            “Safe,” came a quiet whisper.  “Thank you.”

            The manacle around Cas’s wrist was pressing into Dean’s back where Cas held him. The other manacle was a hard bump against Dean’s chest.  Cas shifted slightly and the chain at his collar rattled.  Dean swallowed hard.  Cas was so completely at his mercy.  Sammy had been right.  Cas’s snark and defiance were the only weapons he had.  Tonight he’d seen Cas without weapons or armor, stripped bare to the broken, frightened, traumatized creature he really was.  Dean made up his mind.  He would keep Cas, keep him safe, because he knew.  He knew he’d broken the biggest rule of all, and gotten attached to a slave.  Now he’d keep Cas because he had to.  Cas wasn’t “the slave” anymore, and he certainly wasn’t a monster.  He’d let down his guard, showed Dean his fear and his vulnerability, and now Dean cared.  No, this was not good.

            The soft, messy hair tickled Dean’s nose, making him want to sneeze.  He shifted his head.  “Do you want to stay here?  I don’t know what you do all night.”

            “Last night, I just watched you sleep.”

            “That’s creepy.”

            “But lying in your bed with you isn’t?”

            Dean rolled his eyes in the darkness.  “Point taken.  Do you want to stay with me or not?”

            Cas thought for a moment.  “Yes. I want to stay here.  This, it helps.”

            “Then good night.”

            “Good night, Dean.”


	8. Trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam is thrilled by the progress they've made with Cas, but Dean thinks he takes things a bit too far

            Dean faced his father, furious.  Down the hall, he could still hear the sound of Sammy’s sobs as his brother cried in his room.  “Dad, how could you sell her?!” he asked.  “She did everything you asked!  She cooked, she cleaned, she took care of Sammy and me...”

            “And yet Sammy still wandered off, and you had to go out and find him!” John accused.  “Dean, you know what’s out there, what happened to your mother!  If that damned slave had been paying attention like she was supposed to be doing, Sammy never would have gotten into that cemetery! What if there’d been a ghost out there, or another demon?  I could have lost you both!”  John shook his head.  “No. She’s gone, we got a little more money now, and it’s time we got going anyway.  We’ve been in one place too long.  Time we got back on the road.”

            “But what about Rachael?”

            “Dean, she’s just a damned slave!  I sold her, and now she’s someone else’s problem.”  John took the boy’s shoulders, gave Dean a harsh shake.  “You need to get your head out of your ass, boy. Rachael was not your mother and she never will be!  You and your brother, this is the third slave we’ve had and the two of you have gotten way too attached to all three.  They’re slaves, and slaves are property.  They don’t do what you tell them to do, then you beat them or you sell them and you move on. That’s what slaves are good for. You want to worry about someone, worry about your brother while I go back to finding the son of a bitch demon that killed your mother.  When we get to the next city, I’ll swing by the auction house, buy another slave to help you with Sammy.”

            “And keep you company in bed?” Dean asked, bitter.  “I know what you did to her, and the reason she couldn’t keep up with Sammy is because you hit her too hard!”

            “She needed to quit bitching and do as she was told!” John growled.  He shook his head.  “You know what, forget it.  This was my fault because I kept her for too long.  You got too used to her and that’s why you got so attached.  So I’m not buying another slave.  You’re old enough now that you can take care of your brother yourself, and when I need company I’ll just stop by a brothel.  We don’t need any more damned slaves.  Now go get your things and Sammy’s packed up. We’re leaving.”

            “But Rachael...”

            “Damn it, boy, I do not want to hear one more word about that slave!” John roared. “Bad enough Sammy constantly going on about freeing them.  He’s just a kid.  You are supposed to have more sense!  Someday, you’ll have one of your own, and you’d better make damned sure you remember this piece of advice – slaves are property!  They’re not people, Dean.  When you own a slave, you get control right from the start and you keep it!”

            “The way you controlled Rachael?” Dean spat.  “What about Janet?  Or Sally? You controlled them all, and they all tried their best to please you, but all you did was hurt them and then sell them!”

            John shook his head.  “Boy, unless you have a serious change in attitude, you’re better off never buying a slave of your own.  If there’s one universal truth about slaves, it’s that you can’t ever keep them for long. Once you start to get to familiar with them, it’s time to sell them and start again, or they’ll use that familiarity to manipulate you to no end!  Lesson one of owning a slave, Dean, and the most important one you’ll ever learn - do not get attached!”

            “Dean?”

            Dean opened his eyes and saw a pair of deep blue ones gazing back at him. Cas was still in his bed, still wrapped in Dean’s arms with his own arms around Dean.  But the angel was calm now, looking concerned as he watched Dean’s face from mere inches away.  “Did you have another nightmare?  Your sleep shouldn’t have been troubled by anyone else asking where you were.”

            Now that was an odd thing to say.  “I’m fine,” Dean managed.  “Just your standard-issue bad dream, reliving a bad memory.”

            Cas nodded.  “I can understand how dreams sometimes feel very real, especially those based on actual memories.  They can be quite frightening or upsetting when a human’s sleeping mind cannot tell the difference between the dream and reality.”

            “For someone who doesn’t sleep, you sure know a lot about dreams.”

            “Of course.  I told you, my kind has frequently entered human dreams throughout the ages to impart various messages.”

            Dean didn’t know what to think about that.  “Can you see my dreams?”

            “I could, yes, when I had all my powers.  But now?”  His hand moved, the tips of his fingers gently brushing against his collar.

            “Oh, yeah, that’s right,” Dean said, feeling stupid.  “You explained that last night.  Sorry, buddy, I guess I’m not quite awake yet.”

            “I’m sure it’s easy for you to forget the reality of my situation,” Cas offered.  “It’s much harder for me.  But at least my bindings have offered you some comfort.”

            Dean blinked again.  “Huh? What do you mean?”

            “My chain,” Cas explained.  “While you were asleep, you took hold of my chain, clutched it tightly.  It seemed to bring you some measure of comfort.  Perhaps the solidity of the chain itself helped you to further anchor yourself to reality?”

            “Um, yeah, that’s probably it,” Dean agreed weakly.  He hadn’t realized until now that he was holding tight to Cas’s chain. The angel was miles off the mark. Holding onto Cas’s chain did bring Dean some comfort, but not because it was solid.  Holding the chain brought comfort because it meant he could keep Cas, that no one could take his angel away from him.  No doubt about it, Dean was attached.  The memory of Cas’s smile back at the park had been the last thing Dean thought about when he’d gone back to sleep.  And his dream, the memory of his father and what he’d said to Dean after he’d sold their last slave, had likely triggered Dean to reach for the chain in his sleep.  Of course Cas wouldn’t go away.  Dean didn’t even have to hold onto him.  Cas was safely chained to his bed, and Dean or Sammy would watch him during the day while he was loose.  Cas belonged to them.  He couldn’t run away, and no one could sell him without Dean’s permission.  Dean could keep Cas.

            Cas was shifting, trying to get up.  He paused when Dean’s grip on his chain kept him from rising.  “Dean?  I’d like to get up now.  Could you perhaps find something else that’s solid to help anchor yourself to reality and let me up?”

            “Oh! Sorry.”  Dean forced himself to let go of the chain.  He sat up, scooching forward on the bed to sit next to the angel as Cas sat up.  “Hey, you know you really made some progress, trusting me enough to let me hold you like that.”

            Cas’s expression clouded.  He looked down at his folded hands as they rested on his knees.  “I took a great deal of comfort from such close contact with you.  But at the same time, I was actually surprised that you fell asleep.  Part of me still expected you to hurt me.”

            “Really?”  Dean tried to keep the hurt out of his voice, but failed.

            Cas regarded Dean.  “Last night, you dragged me down with little effort.  You held me in your bed despite all I could do to try to get loose.  And even if I’d managed to squirm free, I’m chained to the bed.  If you’d decided to use me last night, there was nothing I could have done to stop it. But you didn’t.  Thank you.  I don’t think I could have found the strength to go on if you’d hurt me, too.”

            “You’ve really been through a lot, haven’t you, Cas?” Dean asked quietly. He thought about Sammy’s list. “Um, do you want to talk about it?”

            “Talk about what?”

            “I don’t know, anything.  What happened to you, what you’ve been through, how you ended up, you know, like this?”

            “How did I end up like this?”  Cas’s hand moved to his collar and traced the markings there.  “When I was thrown out of Heaven, there were certain signs.  Magnus saw them, recognized what they meant, and went looking for me.  I’d landed in an old barn and wasn’t conscious when he found me.  He trapped me with a circle of burning holy oil.  I couldn’t get out of it, and it contained most of my powers.  Then he went to work, trying out various spells and sigils until he learned what worked best to control me.  It took weeks before he was able to engrave the collar and the manacles with enough sigils to hold me, and two days before he could convince me to put them on.”

            “Wait, he made you put those on yourself?” Dean asked, incredulous. “Dude, why would you ever agree to that?!”

            “Because for weeks he’d kept me trapped in that circle,” Cas explained without looking up.  “He kept adding oil as it burned away, refusing to let me out while he experimented on me with his spells.  The flames, at first they just trapped me and that was bad enough.  But once he’d created my restraints, he started making the circle around me smaller and smaller until the flames were licking at my vessel, burning my Grace.  The pain was...”  Cas shuddered.  “I’d never felt such pain.  He threw the collar and manacles into the circle with me and told me that if I wanted the burning to stop, all I had to do was put them on.  Understand, I didn’t know, then, why he wanted me.  But I knew that the restraints were designed to never come off again once they were on, so I resisted.  For two days, he left me like that, burning in that circle, until I finally put on the restraints to stop the pain.  Then he taunted me that I’d enslaved myself.  I remember him laughing at me as he chained me that first time.  I’d tried to run when he put out the flames, but he caught me, threw me down and pinned me. I couldn’t fight him.  The sigils drained my strength so much that I couldn’t get him off of me.  All I could do was try to squirm free and yell at him to let me up.  But he wouldn’t.  He was laughing, holding me down and kissing me.  He kept talking about how I was beautiful and telling me that he owned me now and I should stop fighting.  He said I’d locked my collar around my own neck, knowing it would never come off again, so why should I be fighting now?”

            “That’s bullshit!”

            “Is it?”  Now Cas was fiddling with the manacle on his left wrist.  “Once these were on, I knew I couldn’t ever get them off.  But he’d kept me there in that circle for weeks. How much holy oil could he really have left?  If I’d just held out, the flames would have died down on their own and I could have been free.  But instead, I chose these.”

            “Bullshit!” Dean repeated.  “Cas, that son of a bitch was burning you alive!  The fact you held out for two days says one hell of a lot about how tough you are.  He forced you to choose between unbearable agony or enslavement, and then mocked you for it?  What a piece of shit!”

            “It didn’t matter.”  Cas’s voice was a whisper now.  “Once I put the collar and manacles on, he doused the flames and chained me up, and no one ever took the chain off of my collar again.  But even without the chains, I was trapped even more than I’d been in the circle of holy flames, because now he could use the spells he’d designed, the book, to control me.  He was furious when he realized I could still resist, that he could only control me for short periods of time.  The first time he raped me, it was punishment for resisting.  But that made no sense to me.  The commands he was using, I knew he was trying to force me to submit to his sexual demands, to make me a sex slave.  Then when I resisted, my punishment was rape?  That was when I realized that I was going to be hurt and used and abused no matter what I did.  So I thought, why should I make it easy?  That’s why I fought, and eventually he got angry and sold me, and that’s how it’s been ever since.  I’d be sold, and my new owner would try to force me into sexual slavery with my book. Then when that didn’t work, I’d be beaten, tied down, raped, and told it would keep happening until I submitted.  I learned to not make a sound once I knew it would happen because they liked hearing me beg.  And I learned to struggle as hard as I could because sometimes that made them get frustrated and stop.  But mostly I learned that, in the end, there was nothing I could do.  And not one of them stopped to think that they were punishing me with rape for refusing to submit to commands that would let them rape me.  It made no sense!”

            Dean’s stomach churned.  “That’s sick. I’ll never understand how people can rape someone.”

            “It’s fairly simple.  They took my clothes, tied me down...”

            “I know the mechanics of it, I just don’t understand how anyone can justify it in their heads!” Dean corrected.  “To force yourself on someone else, to take everything away from them? How the hell can you look at yourself in the mirror after doing that to another person?”

            “Can you look at yourself in the mirror?”

            Dean blinked at him in surprise.  “What do you mean?”

            “I mean you bought me.  You’ve already taken everything away from me.  You own me, and by law you can do whatever you want to me because I’m your property,” Cas pointed out.  “You’ve even got a book that you’ve already used to force me to obey you, and you told me you planned to use it again to make me utilize my powers in your hunts. Sex is pretty much the only thing you haven’t taken from me.  So because you’ve never done that one last thing, is it easy for you to look at yourself in the mirror?”

            It hit like a kick in the nuts and left the same sick feeling in its wake. “Cas, I can’t help that you’re a slave,” Dean protested weakly.  “I never wanted one!”

            “But you have one.  You own me now.”  Cas’s voice was still quiet, his eyes still downcast.  “While I’m grateful you haven’t raped me, and I’m still not convinced you won’t eventually, I’m confused as to why you see such a difference between you and my masters who have.”

            “You seriously don’t see a difference between me and those bastards who raped you?!”

            Cas shrugged.  “At least they were honest.  They told me from the start why they wanted me, what they would do to me.  They never tried to justify what they were doing by pointing out what they didn’t do.”

            “There’s that snark back,” Dean sighed.  “We have a long way to go.  But I think we made a big step last night.”

            Sam agreed.  He was ecstatic when Dean told him what had happened and promptly ran out to buy Cas some clothes, using the measurements the auction house had provided.  Dean stayed with Cas, going over his commands. Dean had given his angel one of the blank copied lists and a pen, telling Cas to cross out all the sex stuff and only keep what they could use on hunts, with notes about what the spell did. It was, Dean knew, putting a lot of trust in his angel.  Cas had looked at him for a long moment, his blue eyes seeming to study Dean.  Then he’d gone to work.  In the end, Dean had a list of commands that didn’t even take up half of a page.  “Seriously?” he’d exclaimed.  “Not that I’m questioning you, Cas, but Magnus seriously had a whole little book full of magical spells capable of commanding an angel, and all but these were stupid sex shit?”

            “So it would appear,” Cas said evasively.

            Dean knew immediately that Cas had left something off of the list.  Well, no matter.  They still had a long way to go before they could trust each other.

            Sam returned with what appeared, to Dean, to be half of a clothing store.  He also had multiple boxes of shoes and three different coats.  “This would have been so much easier if I could have just taken you there and let you try on what you liked,” Sam called as he dragged in his purchases.  “But they don’t let slaves in the changing rooms, and after what you’ve been through, I wasn’t about to make you undress right in the store!  According to the sizes I got, these should fit you.”  He pushed several bags and boxes towards Cas.  “Go ahead, try them on!  If there’s something else you’d like, we can always...  Whoa!”

            “Um, Cas, could you pull your pants back up, please?” Dean asked politely. “My brother is the only genius in the world who is also a complete and total idiot.”

            Cas frowned in confusion, pulling his pants back up.  “I thought you wanted me to try on the clothes?”

            “Yeah, but not right here.  We’ll take these things to a room for you to try on privately.  Just let us bring these in for you, alright?  At least those long arms of Sammy’s are good for carrying things.”

            “Yeah, I’ll, uh, bring these into one of the rooms for you,” Sam said, red-faced. “I actually meant for you to try these on there, you know, in privacy.  Sorry.”

            Cas only looked mystified.  He followed Sam, helping him and Dean carry his new belongings.  “You want me to wear different clothes, then?”

            “I want you to have the option, yes,” Sam clarified.  “Now you have multiple choices.”

            “I’ll say!”  Dean’s eyes roved over the bags.  “Sam, he’s got more clothes now than the two of us put together!”

            Sam looked exasperated.  “Don’t you think he deserves them?  He’s got nothing to call his own!”

            “So you’re turning him into Fashion Ken?  Where is he going to wear all of this anyway?”

            Now Sam looked irritated.  “It’s not just clothes, you know.  I also got him some other things.”

            “Other things?”  Dean peered into a bag and his face went blank.  He reached in and displayed a new iPad, waving it in Sam’s bitch face. “Really, Sammy?”

            “Dean?  Castiel deserves to have some nice things of his own!”

            “Sure, but do you think maybe you’re going just a bit overboard?”

            “After what he’s been through?!  You know what, just forget it because I’m not taking anything back.”  Sam put down his load, took Dean’s, and put it down next to his. Then he grabbed Cas’s key and shooed his older brother out.  “Go do something else.  I’ll get Cas settled in and be out.”

            No problem.  Dean headed back out, and a few minutes later, Sam joined him.  By the younger man’s expression, Sam was daring Dean to argue with him about his excessive purchases.

            Dean indicated the list of spells instead.  “Cas actually knows quite a bit about monsters,” he began.  “I guess it’s not too surprising, considering he’s an angel. He gave us this list of spells that we can use in the field to unlock his angel powers and let him help fight. He even made notations here about what monsters they can be best utilized against, see?”

            “Dean, this is amazing!” Sam admired.  “Castiel is going to be such a huge asset in the field when he comes hunting with us!”  He beamed at Dean.  “I cannot believe how much progress you’ve made with him!”

            “And that’s the other thing.  I’m fairly certain he’s not being completely honest with us about the rest of the spells.”

            “Why?”

            “Just the way he talked.”  Dean frowned at the crossed-off spells.  “Most of them, if you put your mind into the gutter, then yeah, you can see they’re more sick sex commands.  But look at this one.  See the picture of a lightning bolt?  And the one beneath it, the picture of a stick finger with all these rays coming off of it?  Cas crossed them both off, but I’ve watched a lot of porn...”

            “Believe me, I’m aware.”

            “...And I know that there’s a lot of sick stuff out there,” Dean continued, ignoring this.  “But these two things?  I don’t think they’re sex acts.  I think they have something to do with his angel powers.  This one here I’m sure about.  He said this picture of a knife is the command that lets him access his weapon. But he crossed out the picture below it, of the knife crossed out.  How much do you want to bet that’s the command to force him to put his weapon away? But he doesn’t want us to know it!”

            “Don’t force him,” Sam warned.  “If you just command him now without his consent, you’ll completely undo all of the progress he’s made!”

            “I know.  He talked about that, how forcing those commands on him takes away all of his free will. That’s why I let him do this.  I’m giving him the chance to choose what spells he’ll let us use on him, with the understanding that we’ll try to get his permission before we use them.  And that means that he clearly doesn’t trust us enough to have the knowledge of whatever these spells do.”

            “Then we’ll just have to earn his trust,” Sam declared.  He was frowning thoughtfully at the spells.  “But in the meantime, maybe we can get an idea?  If these spells are in Enochian, we might be able to look them up.”

            Dean glanced back towards the door where Castiel had gone.  “He’ll be alright?”

            “Sure!  He’s in there trying on some new clothes.”

            “Then let’s go!”

            Unfortunately, their search proved fruitless.  While there were primers on the Enochian alphabet, Dean couldn’t find anything even remotely resembling an Enochian-English dictionary.  Sam was still optimistic.  “There’s a few people I can ask,” he offered.  “We’re not likely to get a direct translation, but we still might get an idea about those two spells.”

            “Best we can do, I guess, until Cas starts trusting us more,” Dean grumbled. “Alright.”  He got to his feet.  “Give me his key and I’ll go let him loose.”

            “Let him loose?”

            “Yeah, I was going to go unchain him, so he can come out with us if he’s done trying on clothes.”

            “Oh, no need!” Sam declared.  “He’ll come out whenever he’s ready.  I didn’t chain him up.”

            Dean froze.  “What do you mean, you didn’t chain him up?!”

            “Dean, he’s trying on clothes!” Sam exclaimed, looking at Dean as though his brother was an idiot.  “If he’s chained up, he won’t be able to try on any shirts that aren’t button.”

            “He can pull them on over the chain, and we can thread it back out when we get him loose!”

            “No, Dean, I am not doing that,” Sam insisted.  “In fact, I took the chain off of his collar.  It’s time we started trusting him.”

            Dean froze.  “Sam, you left him loose, and we’ve been in here all this time?  What’s to keep him from going out the door?!”

            “Why would he go out the door?” Sam asked, looking annoyed.  “That would completely undo all of the progress we’ve made!”

            “Do you think he gives a shit about making progress with us if he thinks he’s got a chance to be free?!”

            Now Sam frowned.  “Dean, he wouldn’t run away!”

            Dean swore and ran out.  He knocked on the door to Cas’s room.  No answer. With a feeling of dread, Dean opened the door and looked in.  Bags and clothes were spread all over the bed.  Cas’s slave uniform was neatly folded next to them.  The long chain was coiled and resting on the table next to the bed, but the angel himself was gone.

            “He wouldn’t run away,” Sam repeated, looking uneasy.  “We trusted him!  And he has to know what happens to runaway slaves!”

            “Does he?” Dean challenged, indicating Cas’s chain.  “He’s an angel slave who hasn’t been let off of this chain since it was first put on him!  He didn’t even know not to use sandpaper on clearcoat, Sam!”

            “But Dean, if the Enforcers catch him, he’ll be...”

            Sammy couldn’t finish, but he didn’t have to.  Both brothers were all too aware of what the Slave Law Enforcers did to runaway slaves as part of their brutal “correction” procedure.

            “I know that, but he might not!” Dean pointed out.  “I told him not to run, but he flat-out told me he doesn’t trust us! Now he’s loose with shoes, regular clothes, and even a coat!  Why the hell wouldn’t he run away?!  He’d be an idiot not to, especially if he has no idea what will happen to him if he’s caught!”

            Sam paled.  “Hang on a moment before you call him back.  I just can’t imagine him running away after the progress we’ve made!  I shouldn’t have left him unchained, but I’m sure he’s just wandered off.  He’s probably just somewhere in the bunker.  Cas?  Castiel!”

            A quick search of the bunker revealed no sign of the angel, and Sam reluctantly admitted defeat.  With a curse, Dean read the return spell.

            Nothing happened.

            “Let me try?” Sam offered.  Taking the book, Sam read the spell as well.  And when once again, the angel failed to appear, Sam and Dean bolted for their jackets.  Dean raced to pick up Cas’s chains, while Sammy gathered their ownership paperwork.

            “He’s got to be out of range,” Sam guessed.  “Which means he must have run out the moment we went into the library. But that spell uses his power, and he’s an angel.  His range has to be several miles!  How could he get that far so fast?”

            “I don’t know, but we’ll ask him when we catch him,” Dean vowed, reaching into his pocket.

            That was how Dean found out his set of keys for the Impala were missing.  The brothers raced for the garage, knowing before they arrived what they would find.

            Cas had taken Dean’s baby.

            Dean stood in the place where the Impala had been parked and cursed at full volume while Sam quickly called the local Slave Law Enforcers.  And a moment later, they were on the road in one of the 1950’s vintage autos from the bunker’s garage.  “I told them that if they caught him, to call us and we’d come for him,” Sam said in a shaking voice.  “I said there’s no need to do a correction on him.  But it’s best if we can find him before they do!”

            “Where would he go?” Dean asked, trying to stay calm for them both.  “My baby had a full tank of gas.  He could be anywhere!  I don’t even know where to start looking!”

            “He’d want to go someplace he could hide,” Sam guessed.

            “Plenty of places in town,” Dean agreed, accelerating.

            But a quick check of the town revealed no sign of their missing angel, and reading Cas’s return spell once again produced no results.  By now, both brothers were fighting panic.  “We’re thinking about this wrong,” Sam began. “Cas doesn’t trust anyone, and he’s on his own.  So that means he’d go someplace away from people who might recapture him or hurt him.”

            “Not much around here except farmland,” Dean pointed out.

            “What about the state forest?  Try that way.”

            “You got it.”  Dean started driving, glad he’d kept up maintenance on all the old cars.

            After a bit of driving, Sam’s phone rang.  He answered and then looked sharply at Dean, his eyes full of dread. “Dean!  It’s the Slave Law Enforcers near the state forest.  They’ve got him!  They’ve got Cas!”


	9. The Enforcers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Dean race to save Castiel from the Enforcer's public correction of runaway slaves

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings ahead, big time. Most of the shit I tagged is in this chapter, read with caution

            “Owning a slave is a great responsibility.  I understand you’ve only just purchased yours, but it’s vital he’s properly registered specifically in the event of theft or an escape.”

            “Yes, we understand,” Sam said patiently.  “If you’ll just give us the paperwork, we’ll fill it out, pay our fine, and be on our way with our slave.”

            Dean admired Sammy’s patience.  They’d been dealing with this annoying, sanctimonious woman for over ten minutes now and Dean was ready to flip the table.  But really, dealing with this bitchy woman was the least Sammy could do. Neither one of them had said a word since Sammy had gotten the phone call that Cas had been captured by the Enforcers.  Dean knew his angry, frightened silence had let his brother know exactly what he was thinking in a far more eloquent way than his words could have.  Judging by the way Sammy had avoided meeting his eyes and his pale face, the message had been received loud and clear.  But at least the Impala was alright.  Dean had spotted his baby waiting outside, near where an excited crowd had gathered for whatever was happening around the side of the building. If anyone put so much as a scratch on his baby there was going to be hell to pay.  But first, Dean just wanted his angel back.  Once he got hold of Cas, it might just take an act of God to get him to let go.  The thought of what could have happened made Dean sick.  He was so kicking Sammy’s ass for this.

            While they’d been sitting here being lectured on the proper care and registration of slaves, they had no idea where Cas was.  Well, that was his own fault, wasn’t it?  Soon enough, they’d collect Cas and get him back to the bunker, where Dean would make absolutely sure that his angel was chained up securely any time either he or Sammy couldn’t keep their eyes on him at all times.  And if his brother even thought about unchaining him again, Dean vowed, Sammy might just find himself in the dungeon with a shaved head and a black eye.

            Finally, the bitchy woman had verified their ownership certificate and given them their paperwork to claim Cas.  The fine listed for them to pay made Sam wince and Dean scowl.  Sam started filling out the paperwork while Dean got into his wallet, removing nearly all of their petty cash to drop into the woman’s waiting hand.  Perfect. They’d be pool hustling for weeks to get that back.  Sammy was scrubbing every toilet, shower, and sink in the bunker when they got back home, possibly with Dean’s foot planted to the knee up his ass.

            “Thank you,” Sam said.  “We really do appreciate how quickly you caught our slave.”  Dean thought he deserved some sort of award for his acting ability.

            “You’re welcome, but I’m afraid your thanks is misplaced,” she replied with a sniff. “It was a concerned citizen that spotted your slave.  Apparently, the car he’d stolen from you was noticed along the side of the road by a citizen, who then contacted one of our patrols to pick your slave up.  Your slave had been wearing regular clothes, a long-sleeved coat to hide the manacles on his wrists, and a scarf to disguise his collar. When he was caught, he was heading into the woods.  I understand he gave the enforcers quite the chase.”  She shook her head in disapproval.  “You’re lucky, gentlemen.  If it hadn’t been for one alert citizen, your slave might have vanished into those woods and been lost.”

            “Yeah, lucky us,” Dean grumbled.

            Sammy dared to give him a minor bitch face.  “That really is lucky.  We don’t want anything to happen to our slave.”

            “Not after what we paid for him!” Dean added.  Sammy gave him a look, but Dean ignored him.  They were in enough trouble as it was.  Let this woman think Dean was only interested in Cas for his cash value.

            Fortunately, it seemed to work.  She gave Dean a knowing smile.  “I’m sure.” She reached under the counter and produced a box.  “Here is his clothing and the items he was found with.  One of the Enforcers brought back your vehicle.”

            “Awesome!”  Dean quickly snatched back his car keys, shoved them into his pocket, and shoved the clothes at Sammy without thinking.  He couldn’t wait to get his angel and get out of here.  This whole place made him feel somehow dirty.

            “Wait, these are all his clothes?  You took his clothes away?” Sam asked.  “Bad enough you dragged him back, did you have to humiliate him, too?!”

            She rolled her eyes.  “Oh, you’re one of those.  Yes, Mr. Winchester, it is standard practice to remove all of the clothing and belongings of a captured runaway slave and inspect them for contraband prior to administering correction.  Now, I see you’ve brought a chain for him.  He really should be properly restrained.  Did you bring one for his wrists, as well?  Perfect.  If you’ll give those to me, I’ll go and collect your property.”

            “Sure,” Dean said, fumbling for the chains.

            “Wait,” Sam called.  “You said you took his clothes prior to administering correction?  Um, I already told them when I called that there’s no need for correction.  We’re right here, ready to take him!”

            “Yeah, we’ll just get him home and correct him there,” Dean agreed.

            She sniffed again.  “Unfortunately, as I’ve been trying to tell you, your slave had not been registered. As we were therefore unable to properly verify his owner before you arrived with your ownership paperwork, we naturally followed protocol.  Your slave’s correction began almost immediately after his arrival, at the request of the citizen that found him.  It was already in progress when you arrived.”

            “You’ve kept us in here for ten minutes!” Sam yelled, leaping to his feet. “And this whole time, Castiel was...?!”

            “Where is he?!” Dean yelled, also jumping up.

            “There’s no need to get so excited!  Your property will not be badly damaged.  The Enforcers who administer the sexual component of the correction always use protection, so there’s no chance of any disease.  And the whips we use are designed to inflict the maximum amount of pain with the least amount of physical damage.  He’ll have welts, possibly some abrasions as well as some potential damage from...”

            Dean slammed his fist on the table.  “Where the hell is Castiel?!”

            The woman huffed.  “Outside. The correction stage is to the right as you exit the building, around the side.  Surely you saw the crowd?  Your slave is very attractive.  A great many people have gathered to witness his correction.”

            Dean stopped listening.  He grabbed Cas’s chains and raced out the door after Sam, already sick at what they would find.

            The crowd of people near where the Impala was parked around the side of the building was twice as big now as it had been when they’d arrived.  As Sam and Dean raced towards them, they heard the unmistakable crack of a whip, followed by a cry of pain and cheers from the crowd. Dean could hear little else then over the roaring in his ears as he and Sam forced their way through the crowd towards the stage.  “We’re his owners!” Sam was yelling.  “Stop! He’s ours!  We’re taking him!  Get the hell away from him!”

            It was as bad as they’d feared.  Cas was on the correction rack, naked and spread with his wrists and ankles fastened to the frame.  He hung at a forty-five-degree angle facing the ground on a stage surrounded by titillated onlookers.  Already, angry red stripes covered the angel’s back.  Worse, to Dean, were the spreading bruises on Cas’s hips, the trickle of blood that ran down his legs.  He gagged, nearly threw up.

            Sam shoved past, head down, and charged at the Enforcer with the whip. Dean barely managed to grab him before he would have flat-out tackled the man.  “Sammy!  Stop!”

            “They hurt Cas, Dean!” Sammy roared, fighting to reach the surprised Enforcer. “Look at what they did to him!”

            “I know!  They’re administering a correction on an escaped slave, just like the LAW demands!”  Grabbing a fistful of Sammy’s hair, Dean dragged his brother’s ear towards his mouth to whisper to him.  “And if you interfere with a legal correction by attacking an Enforcer, you’ll be arrested, possibly even enslaved yourself!  You have to stop!”

            It was probably the hardest thing Dean had ever asked his younger brother to do. Sammy was shaking, red-faced and furious as he glared at the frowning Enforcer.  His breath hissed from between clenched teeth.  For a moment, Dean was sure that Sammy was going to attack the Enforcer anyway. But then a harsh whine of frustration escaped the younger man.  Sammy sagged in Dean’s arms.

            Dean forced himself to smile at the Enforcer.  “Sorry!” he called.  “We paid an awful lot for our slave and those stripes on his back are going to take a while to heal.”

            “They’re not permanent,” the Enforcer assured.  “I have to say, you’ve got your work cut out for you on this one. He didn’t say much, but he ran when we came after him, resisted being put on the rack, and wouldn’t stop struggling while we were at him.  It wasn’t until the fourth one of us had him that he finally settled down.  He still got a bit torn up.  Sorry about that, but your slave looks healthy enough.  Give him a few days and he should heal right up. Then you can use him again.”  He was still eyeing Sammy suspiciously as Dean carefully let his brother go.  Then he jerked his head towards Cas.  “You’ve got a fine-looking slave here, but his discipline seems to be lacking.  We were going to give him fifty lashes.  He’ll probably try to run again, even after this. You best get him registered, and I wouldn’t let him off of his chain anymore.”

            “We just registered him, and we won’t.  Sammy, here.”  Dean shoved the chains into his brother’s chest.  “Chain him back up, and let’s get him loose.”

            He’d been hoping to give his brother something to do, to try to keep him calm. But Sammy stared at the chains as if he didn’t know what they were.

            “Ok. I got it.”  Dean took the chains back and quickly moved to Cas.  Avoiding the angel’s eyes, Dean clipped the chain back onto his collar.  Cas didn’t make a sound.  He simply watched, impassive, as he hung limply from the rack.  Dean quickly looked away from him, focusing on his brother. “Get him down off of this rack, Sammy, alright?  Then I’ll chain his hands, and we’ll get him out of here.  We’ll take him home.  Come on, Sam, let Cas go so we can take him home!”

            Sam looked blankly at him.  Then he nodded, his eyes dull as he turned to Cas.  “Cas?  It’s ok,” Dean heard him say quietly.  “I’m going to get you down from there.  It’s over. You’re safe.”

            Silence from the angel, although his head raised to look at Sammy.  Sammy wiped angrily at his eyes as he moved to free him.

            The Enforcer approached Dean as the disappointed crowd began to disperse. “There’s someone you should shake hands with,” he said.  “Your slave would have been long gone in those woods if he hadn’t spotted your car and called us.  You’ve got some nice-looking property!”

            Dean wasn’t sure if the Enforcer was talking about his baby, Cas, or both, but he nodded.  “Thank you.”

            “Here’s the hero of the day!”

            Dean looked up to see a smiling, balding man in a suit.  The man looked like a sleazy lawyer, but for some reason he seemed oddly familiar.  He looked expectantly at Dean.  “Thanks a lot,” Dean managed.

            “Of course!  Always happy to help someone reclaim his property.”  The man’s beady eyes seemed to be evaluating Dean somehow.  “Name’s Zachariah.”

            “I’m Dean, that’s my brother Sam.”

            “Charmed.”  The eyes flicked towards where Sam was releasing Castiel before locking once more on Dean.  “You should be more careful.  That’s valuable property you’ve got there.  I don’t suppose you’d consider selling him?  I’d be willing to pay a fair price!”

            “No thanks.  We’ll keep him for now.”

            “That’s too bad.  Do please keep me in mind if you should change your mind.  I did very much enjoy seeing his correction.  Four Enforcers had him before he stopped fighting, and he didn’t make a sound until the whipping began!”

            Yeah, I bet you did enjoy it, you sick son of a bitch, Dean thought.  He forced himself to keep smiling.  “I’m glad you did.  You won’t be seeing another correction on him, though.  I’ll make sure he never runs away again.”

            “Of course.  You take good care of your slave, then.”  Zachariah stepped closer and, to Dean’s disgust, gave him elevator eyes.  “It’s been a pleasure meeting you!”  He extended a hand, and Dean reached out to shake it.

            “Dean!” Sam called. 

            It was Dean’s only warning.  Cas was charging towards him, throwing his arms around Dean’s neck just as Dean’s hand was clasped by Zachariah’s.  Out of the corner of his eye, Dean thought he saw the marks on Cas’s manacle glow for just a fraction of a second.  Zachariah hissed in surprise and jumped back, shaking his hand as though he’d been burned.

            Dean caught Cas as the angel sagged against him.  “Cas?”

            Cas clung to him.  “Stay with me,” he whispered frantically into Dean’s ear.  “Don’t let him draw you away!”

            “Yeah, sure, buddy.”  Dean swallowed.  “Listen, I have to chain your hands again.”

            “Do as you must,” Cas whispered.  “Just stay with me!”

            Ok, that was weird.  But at least Cas didn’t struggle or protest when Dean clipped the short chain onto the manacles on his wrists.  He also didn’t let go of Dean’s neck.  Now he was leaning heavily on the hunter’s shoulder.  Being embraced like this by a naked man in public was a little disconcerting.  Sam had taken off his coat and had put it over their angel, trying to cover Cas as much as he could.  But Cas’s attention seemed oddly fixated on Dean.

            “Leaving so soon?” Zach asked.

            Dean looked up to see that the creepy man was now standing in front of him.  Cas was glowering at Zach, still holding tight to Dean.  But that made sense, Dean supposed.  The guy was the reason Cas got caught, after all.  “Yeah, we need to get going,” Dean told Zach.  “Thanks again for finding my slave.”

          Zach was still smiling that creepy smile.  “Of course.  I hope to see you again soon, Dean Winchester.”

            “Yeah, sure, Zach.”

            Cas’s arms were so tight around Dean’s neck now that Dean was being dragged down a bit, forced to walk hunched over as he and Sam helped their battered angel to the Impala.

            “Let me drive him home, Dean,” Sam pleaded.  “This whole thing happened because of me, because I was impulsive!  I just need to talk to him, know he’s ok. Let me drive him, and you can follow us...”

            “No!” Cas grunted, surprising the brothers.  “I need to be with Dean.  Please!”

            Dean glanced over in time to see the hurt flash across Sam’s face.  Dean cleared his throat.  “Why don’t you follow us, Sammy?” he offered.  “Once we get home, we can get him cleaned up, and then see if he’ll talk.”

            Sammy nodded, his eyes dull.  He helped Dean get Cas into the back seat.  Then Dean handed over the clothes they’d taken back from the Enforcers.  “Get dressed, buddy, if you can.  You’ll have to leave your shirt off, but that’s probably best until we can treat your back anyway.”

            “I’ll dress when we’re on the road,” Cas insisted.  He couldn’t seem to keep his hands off of Dean, although his eyes seemed to be scanning the crowd.  “Please, just drive!”

            “Alright,” Dean agreed.  “Let’s get you home.”

            A moment later, Dean had the Impala on the road, Sammy following close behind in the other car.  Once the Slave Law Enforcement building was out of sight, Cas finally relaxed.  Only then did he let go of Dean.  Dean could hear him shifting around in the back seat, hear the occasional hiss of pain as Cas moved to dress himself.  Before long, Cas was mostly dressed and sitting up.  He hunched in the back seat, resting against the back with his left shoulder to spare his back.  Sam’s coat was still draped over his shoulders.  The angel looked utterly defeated and lost.

            “This is probably a stupid question,” Dean began, “but is there anything I can do to help you?”

            “How will you punish me for running away when we get back?” Cas asked quietly.

            “You’ve been punished enough!”  Dean’s hands tightened on the wheel.  “You just got publicly gang raped and whipped!  That’s more than enough punishment for running away, alright?”

            “They said I was supposed to receive fifty lashes,” Cas pointed out.  “I only got seventeen.”

            “And I own you, and I said it’s enough!” Dean snapped.

            Sudden silence from the back seat.

            Dean sighed.  “Cas, if you want to lie down, you can.  After what they did to you, you gotta be sore.”

            “It’s very uncomfortable, yes.”  Cas shifted around until he could lie down on his side across the back seat.  A slight whimper escaped him, followed by silence.

            Dean swallowed around the lump in his throat.  “What can I do for you, Cas?”

            “Why would you ask me that again?  I ran away, after you told me not to and Sam trusted me.  I deserve what I got.”

            Dean ground his teeth.  “I’m asking because I care, alright?  And you do not deserve what happened to you!”

            “I don’t?”  Cas sounded confused.  “But didn’t you want me to be punished for running away?  They said you would!”

            “No!”

            Surprised blue eyes blinked at Dean in his rearview mirror.  “You didn’t?  But they said...”

            “Cas, Sammy and I tried our best to keep you from being corrected, but they already started before we got there and we didn’t know.  Then they kept us for over ten minutes filling out forms while you were right outside being...”  Dean swallowed hard.  “I should have gone around the building, found out what that crowd was about.  They were already raping you when we got there. If I’d just gone to check, I could have stopped it!  So yeah. If there’s nothing I can do for you, fine, but if there is?”

            “There is one thing you can do.”

            “Ok, what is it?”

            “The man you were speaking to.  Zachariah?”

            “Yeah, what about him?”

            “Stay away from him,” Cas said.  “Don’t talk to him.  Don’t let him touch you.  If he comes near you, walk away, or run if you have to.  If he tries to contact you, stay in your bunker, or with me.  Just stay away from him!”

            Dean couldn’t imagine anything the angel might have said that could have surprised him more.  “Um, ok? I guess you’re pretty pissed off at him, huh?  I mean, if he hadn’t happened to come along and call the Enforcers on you, you might have gotten away!”

            Cas’s head appeared in the rearview mirror, popping up to peer at Dean.  “Is that what he said happened?”

            “Yeah?”

            “I see.”  The head dropped back down.

            Dean blinked in confusion.  “Is that not what happened?”

            “It doesn’t matter.  You asked me if there was anything you could do for me.  That is what I wish for you to do.  Will you?”

            “Um, sure, I guess?”

            “Thank you.”

            That was it.  Cas didn’t say another word for the remainder of the trip.


	10. Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back at the bunker, Sam and Dean try to help Cas and to understand why he ran away

            “I don’t understand,” Cas complained.  “I deliberately disobeyed you, I violated your trust, and I ran away. If I hadn’t been caught, I may never have returned!  I know you’re both very upset, but Sam keeps insisting you’re not angry at me.  Why?”

            “Let’s just get you taken care of first,” Dean insisted.  He’d quickly chained Cas to the post in the den again once they’d arrived home.  Now he had Cas’s spell book in his hand.  “These spells going to work again?”

            “They always worked, Dean,” Sam explained.  “Cas was just out of range.”

            “Ok, then the range is important to know, especially if you’re going to help us on a hunt,” Dean pointed out.  “Just how far away will these spells work?  Come on, Cas!” Dean urged when the angel looked away and went quiet.  “This is something that may mean life or death on a hunt!”

            Cas stayed stubbornly silent.

            “Ok,” Dean sighed.  “Ok, Cas. You won’t tell us, so let’s move on for now.  The heal spell that fixed my baby can heal you, too, right?”

            “No. That spell forces me to use my Grace to heal another, not myself.”

            “So which one makes you heal yourself?”

            Cas looked down.  “There is no spell in that book that makes me heal myself.  My vessel will heal quickly enough on its own, even with my Grace trapped the way it is.”

            Dean sputtered.  “That son of a bitch made this whole book of mostly sex spells, had a room where he’d beat on you, and didn’t bother to give you one way to heal yourself?!”

            Cas shrugged.  “I imagine Magnus saw little use for such a spell.  The punishments would be less effective if I could simply heal them afterwards.”

            Sam got up, picked up his chair, and hurled it across the room, making both Cas and Dean jump.  He paced around a bit, breathing hard.  Dean thought he knew how his brother felt.  He stayed quiet, letting Sammy regain control until he returned to the table to address Cas.  “So you can’t heal yourself, Cas?  You just have to suffer through it?”

            “Not necessarily, no.”

            Sam raised an eyebrow.  “What do you mean?”

            “You asked if there was a spell that makes me heal myself, and there isn’t one. But there is a spell that, while that isn’t its purpose, will free my Grace enough to allow me to heal.”

            Dean stared at him.  “And that spell would be?”

            “The spell that forces me to open my wings,” Cas explained quietly.  “Please don’t use it?”

            Dean had already been eagerly flipping through the book.  Now he stopped, frowning.  “Don’t be stupid, Cas!  If it’ll let you heal, then I’m using it!”

            A giant hand suddenly covered the book, obstructing Dean’s view of the spells. “Dean, leave him alone,” Sam ordered quietly.  “It’s an intimate thing for him, remember?  Cas has been violated enough tonight.”

            That made Dean flinch.  “But I’m not going to try to touch them, I just what him to be able to heal!  What they did to him?  I mean, come on, Sammy, you know he’s hurt!”

            “It’s his choice, Dean!” Sam insisted.  “He was raped and beaten and now we’ve just chained him up like a dog again. This is the one choice he can have. Let him have it!”

            Once again, Dean was struck with the realization that he was hopelessly out of his league.  He had no idea how to talk to Cas, what to do to help him.  He looked over at Cas, saw him shifting uncomfortably in the chair. The way Cas was sitting, sideways in the chair, Dean could see a bit of the angry red welts that covered his back when he shifted Sammy’s coat over his shoulders.  Over and over, the image of the blood dripping down his angel’s leg flashed through Dean’s mind.  And with it came rage, nearly overpowering, impotent rage.  More than anything, Dean wanted to make someone pay for what had happened to his angel.  If I ever find this Righteous Man? he thought to himself, I may just choke the life out of him!

            Sammy was pulling him aside.  “Dean, let me try to help him,” he pleaded.  “Please.  I don’t know if he’ll let me, but if he will, I need it!”

            That cooled Dean’s white-hot anger a bit.  He took his brother’s shoulder.  “What happened to Cas isn’t your fault, Sammy,” Dean insisted.  “No more than what happened to Janet was your fault!  Yeah, I know what you’re thinking,” he went on when his brother’s hazel eyes filled with guilt.  “You were just a little kid, Sammy.  You thought if you stole dad’s keys and took her collar off, that meant she was free. But she should have known better! And as for dad making us watch her correction?”  He squeezed his brother’s shoulder, as much to steady himself as Sam.  “Dad could have stopped it at any time.  He wanted the two of us to learn a lesson as much as her.”

            “And we learned it, didn’t we?” Sam said bitterly.  “I remember you begging and pleading with dad to stop it, but he didn’t.  He just held us there by the arm and made us watch!”

            “It was awful,” Dean sighed.  “Honestly, the only things worse were losing mom, losing dad, and losing you.  But Cas isn’t Janet, alright?  He belongs to us, and we are the only ones who can protect him from shit like that now. But he’s got to trust us enough to let us!”

            “I know.”  Sam shook his head.  “I still can’t believe he ran away!  I thought we’d made so much progress, but I guess it was just too much for him.  And you’re right.  Cas isn’t Janet.  He’s ours, and we’re ultimately responsible for him.  So please!  Let me do what I can to help him?”

            Dean nodded.  He watched as Sammy moved back to Cas.  Cas, the lovely angel he’d held in his arms last night.  The broken slave he’d made the mistake of caring for.  Cas was choosing to suffer through the physical trauma of what had been done to him rather than bear any more emotional trauma.  Dean simply was at a loss.

            But where Dean stumbled awkwardly around emotional issues, Sammy shone. The younger man retrieved his chair and pulled it near Cas.  Now he was looking at the marks on the angel’s back.  “Castiel, I don’t want to cause you anymore pain,” he began, “but I’m concerned about these marks.  Even if angels can’t get infected, they look painful, and they really should be cleaned. I’d like to help you, if you’ll let me?”

            Cas looked warily at Sam.  “What do you want to do?”

            “First, I want you to trust me.”  Sam’s eyes were serious.  “Later, we’ll talk about what happened, but right now, the only thing I care about is that you’re hurt.  Dean and I get knocked around on hunts all the time.  We’ve gotten good at patching each other up.  Will you trust me enough to let me help you?”

            “What do you mean?  What will you do to me?”

            Cas’s anxiety was so evident in his voice that it was all Dean could do to keep from pouncing on his angel, wrapping Cas in his arms, and trying to shield him from the entire world.  But Sammy stayed calm.  “I can take you into the shower and help you clean these,” he offered.  “Then if you want, I can put some ointment on them and cover them with gauze to protect them.  It will help them heal, and help with the pain.  And that’s all I want to do, Cas.  Can I touch you enough to do that?”

            Cas shuddered.  But he nodded.  Sammy waited patiently while Dean unlocked Cas’s chain from the post.  Then both brothers hesitated, looking at Cas’s chained hands and then at each other.  “Dean, could you let his hands go, please?” Sam said at last.  “I’ll keep him with me, and bring him back when we’re finished.”

            Dean nodded without a word.  Cas eyed him as his hands were freed.  Then he gingerly got up and followed as Sam led him to the shower.  The way Cas was walking broke Dean’s heart.

            Dean was hitting the hunter’s helper when Sammy and Cas finally returned.  At least now Cas was walking better.  He was also wearing a clean shirt and smelled of ointment.  Sam was looking with outright revulsion at the chain in his hands, so Dean quickly took it, chained Cas to the pole again and sat down.  Cas didn’t make a sound, but he stayed close to Sam.  In one simple act, Sammy had managed to demonstrate to the traumatized angel that he was safe, that he wouldn’t be hurt, and had gained a measure of Cas’s trust. Sometimes his little brother made Dean feel like the most incompetent idiot in the world, but at times like this, Dean was grateful.

            Sammy pulled up a chair, accepted a tumbler of whiskey from Dean, and scooted close to Cas again.  Sam downed the whiskey in one go.  The angel didn’t look up.  “Castiel,” Sam began, “do you understand we’re not angry at you?”

            Cas gave a slight nod.

            “Ok, good.  Because we need to talk about what happened, but I want you to know that we only want to understand.  We’re not going to punish you for anything you say.  You have already been punished enough for running away, and Dean and I didn’t even want that to happen!  So will you please just be honest with us?”

            “What do you want to know?” Cas asked warily, looking from one brother to the other.

            Sam folded his hands and looked at Cas.  “Can you tell us why you ran away?  Did we do something, say something, that made you feel afraid, that you had to try to escape?”

            Cas had the chain attached to his collar in his hands and was toying with the links as he considered his answer.  “You own me.  You have complete control over me and determine everything I do.  You even have a book of spells that lets you override what little free will I have left.  Of course you make me feel afraid!”

            “That’s fair,” Sam agreed.  “You have every reason to feel afraid, and that’s why we’re not angry at you.  But I will admit, I’m disappointed, Cas.  I thought we’d reached a real turning point, and that I could trust you.”

            Cas seemed to shrink in his chair.  “I know.  I know I betrayed your trust, but when you took the chain off?  When you walked out and left me alone, and I realized there was nothing stopping me from going out?”  He shook his head.  “I didn’t know what to do.  I thought at first it was some sort of test or trick, so I stayed in the room and tried on some clothes.  That’s when I realized that they covered my restraints.  When I went into the bathroom and looked at my reflection, I couldn’t tell that I was looking at a slave.  Then I started thinking about the park, and how good the sun and the fresh air felt, and I wanted to feel it again.  In the end, I couldn’t help myself.  I had to go out.  I didn’t want to run away, I just wanted to go outside!”

            “I’m sorry,” Sam apologized.  “I was overly enthusiastic.  The progress you made got me so excited that I pushed too hard, gave you too much freedom too fast.  It must have been overwhelming for you.”

            “It was,” Cas agreed.  “When you took the chain off of my collar?  After being chained up for so long, I felt lost.  So I wandered out.  I could hear you, the two of you in the other room.  But the door was right there.  I knew that the sunlight would be right outside of that door.  So I just went through it.”

            “Took my baby, and off you went,” Dean grumbled.

            Solemn blue eyes fixed on Dean.  “No.  What you said, Dean, your ground rules?  You warned me not to run away, and when I went outside, I hadn’t planned on breaking that rule.  I only wanted to just walk around a bit in the sun.  I didn’t plan to run away when I went outside, I only wanted to breathe more of that fresh air.  I would have just stayed out there, right outside the door, until you came to get me and brought me back.”

            “So, you didn’t plan on running away?”  Sammy looked as surprised as Dean felt.  “But Cas, you took the Impala and drove off to the state forest!”

            “I only took your car because I was contacted, by someone I never expected to hear from again.  And what they had to say was too important to ignore.  I left because I was asked to meet, out where I was caught. But I wasn’t running away, not until I was out in the woods and...”

            “And you got a real taste of freedom,” Sam guessed.

            Cas nodded.  “After the meeting, I knew I couldn’t go back.  I couldn’t stand to just let you take me and do this to me again,” he explained, giving his chain a shake that made both brothers wince.  “I felt free for the first time since Magnus captured me.  How could I just give that up?”

            “Yeah, we get it, Cas.”  Dean stared into his drink.

            “I wasn’t going to keep your car, though,” Cas added.  “I planned to get a message to you, let you know where you could come and get it.  I thought I could hide in the woods and no one would find me.  But...”  He looked down.

            “But someone reported you to the Enforcers, and we know the rest,” Sam finished with a groan.  “Cas, who contacted you, why, and how?”

            Cas’s eyes were fixed on his chain.  “I’m tired.  If I can rest, I’ll heal much faster.  May I please go lie down?”

            “Cas, sooner or later, we’re going to need you to talk to us,” Dean sighed.

            “But not tonight,” Sam declared.  “You’ve told us that your body will heal itself.  What can we do to help that?”

            “Just leave me be,” Cas said quietly.  “Let me rest quietly, focus the strength I can still access.”

            “Alright.  Do you want to lie down in a room, where it will be dark and quiet?”

            “Yes, I would like that very much.”

            Sam got up, took the key from Dean and unlocked Cas’s chain.  He hesitated, staring at the chain in his hands with undisguised loathing.

            “I got him,” Dean called, taking the chain from his brother.  “Cas, where do you want to be?  I can chain you up in that room where we put your clothes, or you can stay with me?”

            Cas rolled his lips into his mouth.  “I want to stay with you, but if you don’t mind,” he began timidly, “could Sam stay with us tonight?”

            Dean grinned.  “Sammy, you up for a sleep-over?”

            Sam looked up in surprise.  Then his expression softened.  “Sure! Sure, Cas, I’ll bunk in with you guys."

            “I don’t want to drag you out of your bed,” Cas said quickly.  “And I’d prefer not to be touched.  I don’t want to be alone all night, but right now, I do. Give me some time alone, let me recover a bit until you’re ready to sleep.  Then please, stay with me.”

            “Yeah, that’s fine.”  Sam was smiling now.  He even reached out and took the chain back from Dean.  “I’ll take him, chain him up in your room, and we’ll bring a futon in for me to crash on.”

            “You sure, Sammy?” Dean asked.  “You want me to chain him up?”

            “I’ll do it.”  He looked at Cas.  “You want to help me drag a futon from one of the other rooms?”

            Cas gave him a small smile.  “I would like that very much.  Thank you. And I’m sorry, Sam.  I’m sorry that you trusted me, tried to give me some freedom, and I betrayed you.”

            “I understand why you did it.  And it’s not the first time I was impulsive and pushed too fast with a slave and got them into trouble.”  Sam’s eyes clouded over.

            Dean cleared his throat.  “There were other influences here, Sammy.”

            “I’m sorry to you, too, Dean,” Cas said, rising.  “I’m glad nothing happened to your shiny car.”

            “My baby’s a tough old gal.  I’m just curious where you learned to drive?”

            “I figured it out as I went,” Cas confessed.  “A lot of people yelled, sounded their horns and waved their middle fingers at me before I got to the woods.”

            Dean chuckled.  “I’ll bet! You get some rest, Cas, and heal up. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

            Sammy led him away.  Dean made himself useful dragging furniture around in his room to fit the futon. In all likelihood, Dean knew, he’d be the one on the futon.  Sammy was just too damned tall for it.  He helped Sam and Cas position the futon on the other side of Cas’s chair.  Once it was in position, Cas smiled.  “Thank you.”

            “You’re welcome.  Sam, set this thing up for me, would you?  You get my bed tonight.  Don’t fart in my sheets.”  With those words of wisdom, Dean headed out.

            Sam was in full mother hen mode.  He made up the futon and Cas’s chair.  Sam made sure his angel was comfortable on his side in his chair, fluffed the pillow under his head, and covered him with warm blankets.  Cas observed this with a puzzled frown.  “You realize I don’t sleep?”

            “Yes, but this way you’re comfortable, or at least as comfortable as I can make you.”  He gave a concerned smile.  “We have some pain meds?”

            “I don’t think they will do much to help me.”  Cas gave Sam a small smile in return.  “Thank you.”

            “You’re welcome.”  Sam stilled for a moment, his head bowed.  “Cas, I don’t want to keep you locked up all the time.  I don’t want to have to constantly watch you.  I want you to be able to wander freely in the bunker, and go out with us on hunts without having to be on the end of a chain.  But you can’t run away!  I promise you, I’m searching for a way to set you free, but you cannot run away again, even if someone contacts you!  If you do...?”

            “If I try to run again, then what happened today will happen again,” Cas finished.  “I understand.”  His hand reached out, clutched at his chain.  “I hate being chained.  I hate being confined and restrained and locked in.  I want my freedom, Sam, as much as I can have.  But I understand I’ll have to earn it.”

            Sam hesitated, his eyes on the chain where it was locked to the headboard.  “If I unchained you and left you alone, would you try to run away again?”

            Cas thought about this for a long time.  Then he closed his eyes.  “Yes.  Yes, I would. I know now what will happen if I’m caught, and I understand that you can’t just let me go.  This?”  His hand touched his collar.  “It’s permanent.  As long as I wear it, legally, I will always be a slave.  But when I was in those woods, and I thought I could be free?  That feeling, the hope that I felt then, I want that again.  If I’m given the chance, I’ll run, try to find a place to hide where the Enforcers can’t find me.  I’m sorry, Sam.  I know the position this puts you in, but I don’t think I’ll be able to help myself.  If you let me go, I’ll run.”

            Sam nodded dejectedly.  “Thank you for being honest, but this means I can’t let you go.  I can’t take the chance you’ll run away again, get caught again. You can’t run, Cas!”

            Cas seemed to shrink a bit.  “I know.  But thank you for asking me.  Now please, could you just leave me alone for a little while?”

            It was all Sam could do to force himself to walk away from Castiel, to leave his angel chained and helpless all alone.  But he knew Cas was at a critical point.  He was just starting to trust him and Dean, taking the first small steps towards real trust.  The fact that his angel had admitted he would run away again if given the chance, knowing it would mean Sam would then refuse to let him go, spoke volumes.  But if Sam pushed too hard now, he knew he could undo all of it.  No. The one thing that Castiel needed more than anything else was patience.  With a heavy heart, Sam headed out to Dean.

            Dean had collected Sam’s tumbler.  He’d filled it with more whisky and pushed it at Sam.  Sam accepted it gratefully.

            “This wasn’t your fault, Sammy,” Dean said.

            “Like hell it wasn’t!” Sam exploded.  “Dean, it was just like what happened with Janet! They did the same thing to Cas that they did to her, for the same reason!”

            “You think I haven’t thought of that, or that I’m not seeing Cas up on that stage every time I close my eyes for a moment?”  Dean’s voice was quiet.  “But Janet wasn’t your fault either, Sammy.  She knew the risk she was taking when you took her collar off and she ran.  You thought you were freeing her, and she’d be safe.”

            “Cas didn’t know,” Sam pointed out.  He was staring into the bottom of his glass.  “I unchained him and thought he’d be content to just try on his clothes and stay with us.  I can’t believe how stupid I was!”

            Dean filled Sam up again.  “I’d already told Cas not to run.  Did he say this was your fault?”

            “No?”

            “Is it his?”

            “Of course not!”

            “Then it’s no one’s fault,” Dean declared.  “Or it’s the fault of this messed-up society we live in.  But if Cas had just run without taking my baby, we probably would have caught him and gotten him back well before the Enforcers got their hands on him.”

            Sam drained his tumbler and handed it to Dean for another refill.  “He hates being chained, Dean.”

            “Of course he does.  Who wouldn’t?  But here’s the thing, Sammy.  Cas isn’t telling us the truth about a lot of things, and the biggest thing he’s keeping quiet about is why he really went out to the woods.”

            “Yeah, especially if he went out there because he was contacted,” Sam said. “Because how, exactly, would someone do that?  It’s not like anyone called Cas on the phone, which means whoever it was used some sort of magical means. So who contacted him, how did they contact him, and what, exactly, does that make them, that they could call an angel?”

            That, Dean realized with a start, was a damned good question.  “I think I might know who it was.  That creepy Zach bastard from the correction, the one who called the Enforcers on Cas? If he was the one who called Cas out there in the first place, it explains why he knew exactly where to tell the Enforcers to look!  So my guess is that Zach called Cas out there for whatever reason, but when they talked, Cas decided that he didn’t want to play along.  Calling the Enforcers was punishment.”

            “That’s scary, Dean,” Sam warned.  “Because you should have seen the look on Cas’s face when he looked over and saw you with that guy.  As soon as I got him loose, Cas ran over and grabbed you.  Then he wouldn’t let you go!  If you’re right, then Zach must have made some sort of threat against you.”

            “Yeah, I think you’re right,” Dean agreed.  “Cas was real funny in the car.  He wouldn’t let go of me until we were down the road, and then he asked me to stay away from Zach.  He said if Zach tried to contact me, I should either go to the bunker or keep near him. But while the bunker makes sense, what’s Cas going to do when his powers are all locked up?  How does he think he can help, when he can’t fight?”

            “Zach backed off quick when Cas grabbed you,” Sam pointed out.  “Maybe Cas’s powers aren’t quite as locked down as he’s led us to believe?  He’s still an angel, no matter what.  If Zach’s a monster, he might recognize that.”

            “I still don’t get it,” Dean complained.  “Why threaten me?  I mean, you’re the one who bought Cas, so you’d be the more logical choice!”

            “Yeah, I thought of that,” Sam admitted.  “But both of our names are on his ownership papers.  Even then, why threaten us at all?  We bought Cas, but it’s not like he’s friends with us or anything. We’ve only owned him for a couple of days.  Cas has no loyalty to us at all.  So what’s the point of threatening either one of us?”

            “Only two people who can answer that,” Dean said.  “If Cas won’t tell us, then the only other choice we have is to go talk to Zach.”

            “Might not be a good idea,” Sam warned.  “Cas is an angel, and if he’s adamant you stay away from this guy, there’s probably a good reason why.  Personally, I’m going to trust my angel.”

            Dean’s eyebrows shot up.  “Your angel?”

            “Yes, Dean, my angel!  Mine and yours, and not just because we happen to have papers that say we own him. Don’t give me that look, you know you’re just as attached to him as I am.  And to be perfectly honest, I’m more concerned about this Zach guy hurting Cas than I am him coming after one of us.  We can defend ourselves.  Cas can’t.”

            Dean scowled into his drink.  “What’s his deal?  I’d like some answers, and I’d like to punch that bastard right in his face for what he did to Cas!”

            “You and me both,” Sam said, raising his hands. “But right now, we don’t have many options.  We don’t even know for sure that he’s the guy!  So, I guess we just need to trust Cas and stay away.”

            Dean grunted, and Sam knew the discussion wasn’t over.  But at least now Dean was moving on.  “How far do you suppose we can let him go before those spells don’t work?”

            “I’m guessing at least a couple of miles,” Sam replied.  “The spells utilize Cas’s own power, and as an angel, he’s got to have a lot of juice. I’m betting it’s a decent distance.”

            “Which means we might have been able to call him back if Cas had left the bunker on foot, but he didn’t.  He stole my baby and he drove, because someone asked him to meet out in those woods, miles away from the wards on the bunker.  Someone lured him out there, Sammy.”

            “It had to be someone with magical inclinations,” Sam mused.  “We know Magnus has them, but I don’t think Cas would hesitate to tell us if he was the one who called him out there because we know all about him.  I think you’re right.  There’s something about this Zach guy.  What did he say when you were talking?”

            “Mostly he was being a creepy asshole,” Dean growled, scowling at the memory. “Talking about how Cas fought until the fourth Enforcer raped him and didn’t make a sound until they started whipping him.  Sorry,” he said, seeing Sammy wince.  “Believe me, we’ll make sure it never happens again!  But none of it had anything to do with me.  Zach barely even touched me.  He was about to shake my hand, but once Cas had hold of me, he backed off.  Cas was giving him the death glare, but that makes sense, considering.  Anyway, all he said was that he hoped to see me soon.”  Dean suddenly straightened.  “He called me by my full name!  Sam, I never told that bastard my last name, but when we were leaving, he said ‘I hope to see you again soon, Dean Winchester.’  How the hell did that son of a bitch know my name was Dean Winchester?!”

            “Dean?”  Sammy’s eyes were very wide.  “That’s kind of ominous.  I really think Zach threatened you!  But why?”

            “I don’t know.”  Dean’s eyes were fixed down the hall, where Cas was alone in his room. “All I know is that Castiel has got way too many secrets.”


	11. Walk and Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Dean make plans for Cas's first hunt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Serious real life bullshit in my life right now. Don't know what it's going to mean for this story. I still want to finish it, but my personal life is so fucked up that last night I was up writing half the night and the rest of the time I can barely even think. Bear with me.

            Cas didn’t make a sound all night.  Dean woke up frequently, anxious to make sure his angel was alright, but Cas never moved.  He stayed quietly in his chair, reaching over the arms of the chair for the two brothers. Dean made sure he stayed close and was pleased to note that every time he snapped awake, Castiel’s hand was touching him somehow.  At one point he glanced over at Sam and saw that Sam was actually clutching Cas’s hand in his sleep.  Dean hadn’t been sure about that, if their angel wanted to be touched in return after what had happened.  But when he tentatively reached for Cas’s hand, Cas gripped it firmly.  That was the last Dean woke up that night.

            That morning, Cas sat at the kitchen table with the brothers, quietly watching them eat.  “I want to go on a hunt with you,” he suddenly announced.

            Dean and Sam looked up in surprise.  “Sure, Cas,” Sam agreed.  “As soon as you’re feeling up to it, we can...”

            “You don’t have anything now?”

            Sam blinked.  “Well, yes, actually.  There’s a pack of werewolves I’ve been tracking, and I’ve got a pretty good lead on where they are.  We were actually planning to go after them, but after what happened to you, I mean, I didn’t want to rush you.”

            “I want to go,” Cas announced.  “I can be useful in a werewolf hunt.  My weapon is effective against them, and they can’t turn me.”

            Now Sam was frowning.  “Cas, I understand that you probably want a distraction, but I don’t know that...”

            “Sure!” Dean called.  “You want to go on a hunt and you think you can help, then let’s go.”

            Sam shot him a look.  “Dean, I’m not so sure that he’s really up to a hunt.”

            “I’m fine,” Cas grumbled.  “Nothing that happened to me yesterday hasn’t already happened repeatedly for the past three years.  And since it wasn’t you, and I know you didn’t want it to happen, it’s not as bad as it otherwise would have been.”

            “Cas, you were gang raped and whipped!” Sam exclaimed.  “That’s not something you can just shake off.”

            “I’m fully aware of what was done to me,” Cas insisted.  “I appreciate your concern, but if you really want to help me? Let me be useful.”

            “Not a problem.  Sam, he wants to come on a hunt?  Let’s take him.  We wanted to do that anyway, remember?”

            Sam didn’t respond, but still looked doubtful.  He settled by reaching over and squeezing the angel’s hand.  Cas gave him a small smile.

            Dean quickly shoveled the last of his eggs into his mouth and got up.  “I’m going to take a quick trip to town, get some supplies.  Be right back.”  Then he’d quickly dressed and headed out.

            His destination was a store in a chain that specialized in slave supplies and accessories.  Most of what was available obviously was designed with one purpose in mind.  Dean shuddered as he moved past the shelves of whips, the display of various gags, dildos, and plugs and moved to study the restraints.  He ignored the various tables and benches, checking out the racks featuring the less extreme restraints and focusing on the leather offerings.  Most of them were the opposite of what he wanted.  He winced as he realized the use of some of the things he saw.  It took a bit, but he was eventually able to select a few items.  Dean hastily purchased them, not making eye contact with the smiling clerk, and headed back to the bunker.

            Sam was up, sitting at the table eating a bowl of cereal.  Cas was there was well.  The angel’s eyes dropped immediately to the bag.  Dean saw his shoulders slump as he noted the logo. Apparently, he was all too aware of what that particular chain sold.

            “It’s not what you probably think,” Dean called.  He put the bag on the table, where Sammy finally noticed it and frowned.  “Ok, maybe it’s exactly what you think, but hopefully not in the way you’re probably thinking.  Whatever. Anyway, Cas, you said you wanted to go on a hunt.  I didn’t want to leave you locked up here alone in the bunker when we’re out on a long hunt anyway.  The idea of leaving you chained in a motel room is even worse.  And we already talked about how you can help us, right? But I think, by now, we all realize that just letting you run loose isn’t in the cards.”

            Dean’s eyes were on Sammy as he spoke.  He saw his younger brother’s eyes cloud, saw Sammy reluctantly nod.  “What did you get?”

            “Not exactly what I was hoping to find, but a few things that might help. The biggest problem was that you don’t have a traditional collar or manacles.  Those stupid things are designed to be permanent, and so they don’t have the rings that might catch.  So I had to find stuff that worked with the connectors on them.  Wasn’t easy, but I got lucky with these.”  Dean dug into the bag and produced a long, thin leather strap with attachment points at both ends.  “It’s the longest one they had, three feet.  We can take the chain off your collar, Cas, and use this to confine your hands a bit.  That way we don’t have to keep you on a leash.  That’s one option.”

            “You said you wouldn’t chain my hands, but that is better,” Cas admitted, eyeing the strap.  “It would give me considerably more freedom of movement, even allow me to fight a bit. It’s useful.”

            “Awesome!”

            Sam was frowning in disapproval, but said nothing.  “Well, I suppose it means we could at least let him off his chain,” he grumbled.  “And it would be a lot harder to hide.  Would take more than just a scarf and long sleeves.  That would reduce some of the temptation to run.”

            Cas hunched his shoulders and frowned.  “I understand the reason behind it.  I know I can’t run away.  But I do appreciate that you found something you can do besides keeping me on that chain.”

            “Ok, here’s something else I got.”  Dean reached again into the bag, producing what looked exactly like a leather dog leash, other than the connector.  “For when we initially take you out, so the chain isn’t dragging and rattling.  It’s short, see, so it won’t even hit the ground when it’s on your collar.  We can use it to get you out there, then let it go, tuck it into your coat or something, and just use the strap on your wrists.”

            “Or we don’t leash him at all, and we just let him walk with us?” Sam suggested, looking irritable.  “I cannot believe that you want to do this to him!  He’s not going to run away.  Just put the strap on his hands and trust him to stay with us!”

            “Sammy, we cannot just let a slave march through a populated area without some sort of leash,” Dean explained patiently.

            “Slaves don’t have leash laws, Dean!  Cas isn’t a dog!”

            “No, but do you remember what happened to Sally when Dad let her take us to the store?  You were pretty young, but she got groped and felt up bad.  Slaves are property, Sammy, and normal rules don’t apply, especially if they’re attractive.”  Dean glanced quickly at Cas before returning his attention to Sam.  “Anyway, that’s why dad always made me take the slaves out on leashes after that if he wasn’t with us.  This?”  He held up the leash.  “This is how we protect Cas.  A slave on a leash means hands off.  A loose one is fair game.  You don’t have to like it, but I guarantee you’ll like seeing someone pawing at Cas a hell of a lot less!”

            Sam flushed.  “Anyone touches Cas, and I’ll bust their head!”

            “Great idea!  Get arrested for getting into a fight, leave me and Cas alone to actually deal with the hunt.  Come on, Sammy, put the slave rights on the shelf and be reasonable, would you?  We own Cas and we need to take some reasonable precautions to protect him.  Think of it like that, and maybe it’s easier to swallow.”

            “It’s alright,” Cas called.  “I have never been taken out, but what Dean says makes sense.  If I’m leashed, it’s also obvious that I’m not a runaway.  I would prefer not to have anyone make that mistake.”

            Sam immediately winced.  “Right. Sorry, Cas, I just, the idea of walking you down the street on a leash turns my stomach!”

            “I’m fine.”  Cas had taken the leash and was examining it.  “It’s no different, really, then the chain, but it won’t drag so much on my neck. And it’s shorter, so it won’t catch easily.  This is a good idea, Sam.”

            Sam nodded.  “Alright, Cas.  Whatever you want.”

            “Ok! And speaking of your chain, item number three.”  Dean removed the last item in the bag.  It looked like a leather loop with a ring and a clip.  At the confused looks he was getting, Dean took Cas’s chain and locked the end onto the ring.  Then he gathered up the chain a bit and hooked one of the links onto the leather loop. “It’s a handle,” Dean explained. “It lets us hold your chain, even gather up the slack.”

            Sam raised an eyebrow.  “The point of which is?”

            “The point of which is that we can very easily do precisely what I’m about to propose.”  Dean grinned at Cas.  “It’s a beautiful day outside, Cas.  You wanna go for a walk in the sun?”

            Five minutes later, the three were outside.  Just like at the park, Dean saw the change in his angel almost immediately. It was impossible to underestimate the effect that sunshine and fresh air had on Castiel.  His eyes were shining as he strolled, brushing his hands over various plants they passed.  The angel seemed especially fascinated by bees.  Coming to a flowering bush, Cas stopped and watched the busy insects for some time, head slightly tilted to one side and a happy smile on his face.  Dean couldn’t take his eyes off of him.  Next to him, Sam was also watching Cas, grinning broadly.  Sam winked at him and Dean rolled his eyes.

            After a time, Cas started walking again, this time leaving the road in favor of the open field.  The brothers followed.  Dean was letting Cas set their direction and pace.  The long chain allowed for plenty of freedom of movement.  Dean hooked enough of it up so that it wouldn’t drag and stayed near Cas. He tried to keep the chain slack, but occasionally he would fall too far behind or get too close to Cas.  When that happened, the chain would tug or brush against Cas as he walked.  Every time it did, Cas’s eyes would cloud a bit.  Dean soon figured out the right distance and was careful to keep it. None of them said a word, letting Cas choose where they would go.  The angel’s destination soon became apparent as they approached a large hollow tree, where an ominous buzzing was heard.

            “Um, Cas?” Dean called as the angel moved closer.  “That is not a good idea!”

            “Why?” Cas asked, still walking towards the hive.  “I simply want to say hello.”

            “Let him do it, Dean,” Sam urged.  “He’s an angel, so it’s probably fine.  Just, um, you know, give him lots of slack!”

            Easy for him to say.  Sam wasn’t the one holding on to the angel who seemed determined to piss off a massive swarm of bees.  Dean swallowed hard and gave Cas all the chain he could.  He frowned, noting that, naturally, Sammy was hanging some distance back.

            Cas walked fearlessly right up to the hive.  He seemed oblivious to the swarming insects as he put his hands on the tree, leaning in and whispering something.  More bees appeared, buzzing around the angel.  When the first one stung Dean, he yelped.  “Um, Cas?  I think maybe it’s time to go!”

            “Yes, you may be right.”  Cas was frowning now as he looked at the growing swarm.  “They don’t seem to recognize that I’m an angel of the Lord. Perhaps it’s the sigils on my restraints?  That’s distressing.”

            “Yeah, I’m getting pretty - ow! - distressed myself here, Cas!” Dean yelled, waving bees away from his face.  “Let’s go!”

            Sam, Dean noted with no surprise, was already running, pulling up his jacket to shield his head.  Dean pulled on Cas’s chain when the angel still hesitated and got him moving.  Then he grabbed Cas’s arm and started after Sam, swearing and trying to shake the bees out from under his shirt.  After a bit of running, they managed to escape the swarm.

            Dean had stings on the stomach, both arms, and his jaw.  He reached beneath the waistband of his jeans to pluck out the stinger embedded in the upper portion of his ass.  Sammy, much to Dean’s satisfaction, did not escape unscathed. He pinched a stinger that was lodged just below his eye, which appeared to be the only injury the bitch had received. Dean glowered at him, and then turned to Cas.  “How bad did you get stung?”

            “I wasn’t stung at all,” the angel replied.  “I’m sorry that you were.  Like I said, they didn’t seem to recognize that I was an angel of the Lord.”

            Dean and Sam stared.  “They didn’t know you were an angel, but they still didn’t sting you?”

            “Well, no.  They didn’t know what I was, but they didn’t view me as any sort of threat.”

            “Great,” Dean grumbled.  “He sticks his hands on the hive and they don’t sting him once.  I’m clear back there, and I got stung in the ass!”

            Sam snickered, and Dean glared at him.

            “I really am very sorry,” Cas said humbly.  “Sam, you have my book?  If you want, the healing spell?”

            “Oh!”  Sam fumbled for the spell book.  “Um, are you sure?  Right! Ok, it’s the one with the cross, right?” Sam quickly read the spell.

            Cas’s eyes filled with a blue-white light.  He took a jerky step forward, hands outstretched, and touched their foreheads with his fingers.  Immediately, the pain of the stings was gone.  Even the welts vanished.  Dean realized with surprise that every little ache and pain he had was gone as well. He looked at Sam and was astonished to see that the faint scar on his brother’s face where he’d been cut on a hunt was gone.  A quick check of his own hands revealed that the scars were missing there, too.

            “Holy shit!” Sam exclaimed.  He’d dragged up his shirt and was staring in shock at the skin of his abdomen.  “My appendix scar!  It’s gone!”

            “Cas, you were only supposed to heal the bee stings, not every little thing we’ve ever had!”  Dean was frowning at his angel.  “That spell made you do all of that?”

            “No,” Cas corrected.  “The spell forces me to use my ability to heal, but normally it would only make me heal recent damage.”

            “So why all this?”

            “Because I wanted to.”  The angel was smiling again as he looked around.  “I wanted to thank you for this, taking me out, being kind to me.  So when the spell returned my ability to heal, I didn’t fight it.  I actually pushed, healed as much as I could.”

            “Thank you,” Dean said humbly.

            Sammy, unfortunately, was quickly getting over the healing and was smirking at Dean again.  “Did you really get stung in the ass?”

            “Shut up,” Dean growled, rubbing self-consciously at the spot.

            “Well, I suppose that’s fitting,” Cas said.  “You did say that I’m a massive pain in your ass.”

            Dean blinked in surprise.  Had Cas seriously just made a joke?  He had! Now Sammy was laughing his ass off. A moment later, Dean was laughing as well.  But then came the best sound of all.  Cas was chuckling, looking between the two brothers before laughing aloud.

            Dean stared at him, entranced.  Blue eyes shining with mirth.  Cheeks flushed with delight.  Smooth skin, somehow tanned despite not seeing the sun for three years, glowing in the sunlight that highlighted the dark hair.  Cas’s lips were slightly chapped, but his teeth were perfect, straight and white.  Hint of dark stubble on his face.  For a moment, Dean wanted nothing more than to pull his angel into his arms and kiss that laughing face.

            Sammy nudged Dean.  Dean looked over at his brother’s grinning face, saw the smug knowledge there, and immediately scowled.  “Shut up, bitch.”

            Sam raised his hands in surrender.  “I didn’t say a word, jerk!”  Sam took Cas’s chain.  “You want to walk some more, Cas, or do you want to head back?”

            Fortunately, Cas seemed largely oblivious.  His eyes were on the fields.  “May I stay out a bit more?”

            “Sure, buddy!”  Sam shot Dean a smirk, received a scowl in return, and waved an arm towards the fields. “Lead the way.”

            Cas kept walking for two hours.  The bee incident had clearly relaxed him.  The once surly and sullen angel was chatting away about bees as they walked. It amazed Dean that anyone could know so much about bees, and yet next to nothing about cars.  Dean let Cas chatter on for a while before he steered the conversation towards something he did know about.  “The hunt we found is in Nebraska,” he explained.  “Looks like a pretty big pack of werewolves.”

            Cas’s smile faded.  His lips pressed together as he nodded.  “Werewolves can be very dangerous.  Will you take me on this hunt?”

            “I’d like to, yeah.”

            “You sure you’re up to that, Cas?” Sam asked.  “Hunting werewolves?”

            “I can hunt werewolves.  The spell that lets me summon and use my weapon, the one with the picture of my angel blade?  I believe that can be helpful.”

            “Well, let’s talk about that.”  Dean kept walking, admiring the open sky.  “Your spells only work for a few seconds when you’re fighting them, but you just proved that, if you don’t fight them, some of them actually work more to free your powers temporarily than to force you to use them.  Is the weapon spell the same way?”

            Cas’s lips vanished into a razor-thin line.  He clenched his jaw, and for a moment, Dean wasn’t sure he’d answer. But then he nodded.  “Yes.  Once I summon my weapon, I have it for about half an hour, or until it’s dismissed.”

            “Um, Cas?” Sam called.  “I don’t remember a spell on that list you gave us to dismiss your weapon.”

            Sudden cold silence from the angel.

            Dean sighed.  “Ok, Cas, look.  I get that you don’t want to be controlled.  Not ponying up the fact that one of those spells makes you dismiss your weapon probably makes you feel more secure.  But you can’t use it on us anyway, and we have to have a way to get it back out of your hands, just in case.  Besides, now we know the spell exists, I don’t think it will be hard to figure out which one it is.  In fact, I’m betting I already know.”

            “So if I don’t tell you, you’ll just try it and force me!” Cas spat bitterly.

            “No,” Dean said.  “If you don’t tell us, it just means we can’t use your weapon.  Which means one less thing we can use to gank these wolves, and one less reason to trust you.”

            “Castiel, we’ve come so far,” Sammy urged.  “We’ve got a lot of silver bullets, but from the reports, this is a big pack.  We could really use some back-up on this hunt.  You said your weapon can kill them and they can’t turn you, which makes you perfect for the role.  But if we can’t use your weapon, the only thing we can use you for is as a lookout. Now if you’re not ready yet, if that’s the only role you want to play, or even if you’d just rather we leave you chained up in the motel, then we’ll give you that choice.  But I know that I speak for us both when I say that we’d like you to join us on this hunt as a full partner.  The choice is yours.”

            Cas went quiet again, but this time, it was a thoughtful silence.  “Can I think about it?”

            “Sure,” Dean agreed.  “We’re planning to drive out today if it’s not too late when we get back.  You don’t have to decide until when we actually go on the hunt.”

            Cas looked up.  “What do you mean, if it’s not too late when we get back?  When do we need to go back?”

            “When you’re ready, Cas,” Sam reminded.

            Confusion darkened the angel’s features.  “I don’t understand.  If you have a long drive ahead, why didn’t you just take me back in sooner?”

            “Because especially after what happened to you these past few days?  You deserved a little sunshine and fresh air.” Sam smiled at Cas as the angel blinked a him.  “When you’re ready, we’ll head back.  Dean and I always have bags packed, so we can leave right away.”

            “Then let’s go,” Cas said.  “And thank you for your consideration.  It means more than I can express.”

            There wasn’t much to say after that.  Sam and Dean loaded up the Impala, put Cas in the back seat and headed out. While Dean drove, Cas’s deep, scratchy voice suddenly called quietly from behind him.  “The picture of the angel blade with a line through it will dismiss my weapon.  You should know, letting me summon my blade will also unlock my strength, so that I can use it to fight.  It will also give me more resilience and increase the speed of my healing.  The spell is the closest Magnus ever came to giving me the ability to defend myself.  Of course, the only time he used it was when he used me to kill one of the monsters in his zoo that had gotten loose.”

            “So, the reverse will take away your weapon, your strength, and your resilience, and make you heal slower?”

            “Yes.  It will return me to, well, this.”  The angel indicated himself.

            Sam nodded, his expression solemn.  “That’s a big deal, that you told us this, Cas.  Thank you.  That level of trust is humbling.  We won’t make you regret it.”

            Cas didn’t respond.  But when Dean glanced at him in the rear view mirror, by the look on his face, Cas was already regretting it.


	12. Rapture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas has some explaining to do when Magnus arranges for a piece of his past to arrive on the Winchester's doorstep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I am really, really sorry for all the drama, especially in the comments section. I currently have over 100 subscribers to this story, 18 who subbed to me, and I highly doubt even one of you subbed for my marital issues. But I was stunned by some of the comments I got. I put up that note to warn people that the posting schedule could get screwy, and I got an amazing amount of support from people who don't know me from Adam. Blew me away! I've heard people talk about the SPN community, but the only other experience I've had with y'all resulted in my brother playing bodyguard and the cops being called (on two consecutive days!), so this was an extremely pleasant surprise. Thx, seriously. Now I'll shut up and give you what you actually came here for.

            The box was waiting outside the motel room door when Dean opened it the next morning.  It had no markings.  It wasn’t even taped shut.  It was simply sitting there, a box of what appeared to be clothing.  In fact, only one thing about it really stood out.

            “Cas, you need to explain this,” Dean announced, slamming the box of clothing down on the table in front of Castiel.  “That first night we had you, when I took you to my room?  I had this weird dream where you were asking me where I was.  And these?” Dean held up a suit jacket, tie, and trench coat from the box.  “You were wearing these!  So tell me. How the hell did the clothes you were wearing in my dream end up in a box on the doorstep of our motel room?!”

            They were almost visible, the walls slamming up around Castiel, every one of his defenses springing to readiness as Cas sullenly looked at his folded hands on the table.

            “Dean!” Sam exclaimed.  “Cas didn’t do it, so don’t act like he did something wrong.”

            “I didn’t!  I mean, he didn’t!  I mean, ugh, Cas, I have to tell you, I am just a little freaked out here,” Dean admitted. “That dream was weird all by itself. It didn’t need any help from mysterious packages.  Now you didn’t do anything wrong, and I’m not upset with you.  I would just really, really like any sort of explanation.”  He pushed the trench coat at the angel. “Can you explain this?”

            Cas reached out and took the coat.  He folded it over and clutched it to his chest.  “It belonged to a man named Jimmy Novak,” he said.  “When I was assigned my mission, I needed a vessel, a human body, to inhabit.  Jimmy was a devout man.  He gave me this body willingly.  These clothes, they are what he was wearing when I took him.  Magnus took them away from me after he captured me.  You can probably guess why.  But I don’t understand why they’d be left here.”

            “Magnus is saying hello,” Sam mused.  He was poking at the rest of the clothes, digging in the pockets of the pants and producing a wallet.  He flipped it open.  “Driver’s license for James Novak, credit cards for same, little bit of money.  I’d say this is yours, Cas, or at least his. But I have to say, I’m a little concerned.”  He frowned at Cas.  “You’re in this man’s body?  Is he aware of it?”

            Cas looked uncomfortable.  “Not really. I’ve kept him pretty far down, so he doesn’t know what’s happening to me.  To us.”  His hand touched his collar.  “I can’t imagine that he would have imagined we’d end up like this.”

            Sam had gone still, an odd look on his face.  “Cas?  This guy had a family.”

            Dean looked up sharply.  “Family?”

            “Um, yeah.”  Sam pulled out a folded picture from Novak’s wallet and dropped it onto the table. “He has a wife.  And a little girl.”

            Cas looked down.

            Dean picked up the picture, staring at the happy family.  “Cas, what happened to Novak’s wife and kid?  I mean, they’re fine, right?  You guys, the angels took care of them?”

            “I promised Jimmy that I would protect his family, but...”  Cas swallowed hard.  “My mission.  I couldn’t take the time to watch over one woman and a little girl that had no part to play in my mission, so I...”

            “So you ditched them.”  Dean’s eyes were cold jade as he looked at Cas.  “You told Jimmy that you’d protect his family so he’d let you take his body, and then you completely abandoned them?!”

            “Dean!”

            “No, Sam.”  Cas’s voice was silent.  “Dean is right.  And I think maybe this is why Magnus left these clothes, here in this place.  Here, you’re not protected by the runes and sigils you have at your bunker, so he could find you with his spells, transport this here.  He wanted you to know this.  To know just what it is that you got when you bought me.  To know that I destroyed this man and his family, left a woman alone without a husband, raising a child without a father, because I made promises I didn’t keep.  I tricked Jimmy into giving me this vessel.  And I never even gave his family a thought until now.”

            “Cas, that’s...”  Dean shook his head.  “Demons took our mom, and that was bad enough.  But you took this little girl’s dad, and you’re still running around in his body?!”

            “Do they know?” Sam asked.

            “She does.”  The angel’s eyes locked on the photo, his hand reaching to touch the image of the smiling little girl.  “The last time I saw Claire, it was right after I took Jimmy.  She came out, calling for her daddy.  And I turned around and said, ‘I am not your father.’ Then I left.  I was only thinking about my mission.  I cared nothing for that girl or her mother.  I never even considered that I’d done anything wrong. It’s just how it is with angels. We need human vessels.  The thought that I was leaving behind a broken home?  It never crossed my mind.”  Cas shook his head.  “I’m sorry. Dean was right all along.  I’m a monster.”

            No one said anything for a long moment.

            “Castiel?” Sam asked at last.  “Was there any way you could have done what you had to do, completed your mission, without taking a human body?”  When Cas shook his head, Sam went on.  “Then if you hadn’t taken Jimmy Novak, you would have had to take someone else, right? That’s...  It’s what you are.  You can’t change what you are!”

            “And how is that any different than these werewolves we’re here to hunt?” Cas challenged.  “I’m betting none of them asked to be turned, but now they are what they are, too. Every monster is the same!  They don’t ask to be monsters, they simply are what they are!”

            Dean saw that hit a nerve, saw his brother flinch.  “Cas?”

            “And what of those?”  Cas pointed at the windows.  “Salt lines on the windows, a devil’s trap at the door.  Above and beyond all else, the Winchesters are demon hunters.  But demons are evil, corrupted spirits that are possessing living humans.  You kill those humans with the demon killing knife of the Kurds in order to destroy them quickly, and Sam, you destroyed a demon who was trying to corrupt you in order to get that knife in the first place!  Yes,” he said, seeing the looks on the faces of the brothers.  “I know who you are.  I knew who you were when I saw you at the auction.  It’s chance you chose to buy me, but I am an angel of the Lord. We know who the Winchesters are! And you’ll never know how close you came to disaster.  If you hadn’t chosen to imprison Lilith instead of killing her, you could have freed Satan himself!”

            “Ok, we didn’t know that, but we couldn’t kill her,” Sam called, puzzled. “I guess it’s not so surprising you know about all this, Cas, but we had no choice but to imprison her!  We had no weapon powerful enough to kill her.  Even the Colt didn’t work!”

            “Of course,” Cas agreed.  For some reason, his gaze was locked on Sam.  “What weapon could you possibly have that could be powerful enough to destroy the first demon?”

            “Ok, I’m going to go on record and say that it’s a bit creepy that the angels know who we are,” Dean announced.  “I mean, we played a part in closing the gate of Hell after that one little incident, and we’ve been ganking demons left and right ever since playing clean-up, but it’s not like we saved the world or anything!”

            “That one little incident?” Sammy asked, irritated.  “You mean the one where Jake killed me and you sold your soul to get me back?”

            Dean nodded.  “Yeah, that’s the one.”

            “My point is, your actions are known,” Cas declared.  “You’ve told me yourself that you kill monsters.  You took me out here to do just that.  And now you know just what a monster I really am! So what will you do?”  Cas looked from one to the other.  His eyes were frighteningly blank.  “Will you, as you call it, gank me now?  How will you punish me for all that I’ve done, all that I am?”

            Sam froze in dismay, but Dean moved on instinct.  He grabbed Cas’s chain and gave the angel a sharp yank, dragging Cas’s head down to the point where it nearly impacted the table.  “This is your punishment!” he yelled.  “This collar, and the manacles!  You got kicked out of Heaven and captured by Magnus, and you’ve been punished ever since!  Now damn it, Cas, knock it off!  Your punishment for what you did to Jimmy Novak and his family has been three years of Hell, and that is more than enough!”

            Silence.  Dean let go of the chain, and Cas slowly sat upright once more.  His eyes moved between the brothers.  “I don’t understand.  You’re hunters, and I’m a monster.  So why don’t you want to kill me?”

            “Because if you really know who we are, then you know we don’t just kill every monster indiscriminately,” Sam explained.  “There are lots of monsters who don’t want to hurt humans, who live their lives in peace and never bother anyone.  And there are others, like Benny and Garth, who even help us.  Right now, we’d like you to become one of those.”

            “We can do a lot of good, and save a lot of people, with an angel in the arsenal,” Dean added.

            Cas narrowed his eyes.  “So... You’re just going to keep me?”

            “That’s been the plan all along!”  Dean playfully mussed Cas’s already-messy hair.  “Just got one more question for you, and I want you to answer me truthfully.”

            “Alright?”

            “These clothes,” Dean said.  “I never met Jimmy Novak.  I never saw either of you wearing those clothes.  But I saw you wearing them in the dream.  Cas, how could I know you ever wore those clothes, unless...?”

            “...Unless it wasn’t a dream?” Sam finished.  He was looking hard at Dean now.  “Unless it was actually a visitation, by someone, or something, who knew Dean was in contact with Castiel.  Someone who knew what Cas was wearing before Magnus enslaved him, but didn’t know what Cas was wearing now!  Because when they first saw him, he was wearing a coat and scarf...”

            “...And after that, they saw him naked,” Dean finished.

            Sam and Dean looked at each other for a moment.  “Zach,” they said in unison.

            Cas appeared to be trying to stare a hole into the table.  Dean put his forearms on the table and leaned close to him. “Cas?” he called.  “Is there anything you’d like to tell us?”

            Cas stubbornly shook his head.

            “Ok, can you tell us why?” Sammy tried.  “Why won’t you tell us anything about Zach?”

            To Dean’s surprise, the angel looked at him, but then quickly looked away.  “It doesn’t matter.  Zachariah can’t learn anything about you in your dreams unless you let him, and he can’t find you or me unless we go to him or someone points us out.  Stay with me when you’re not in the bunker and he can’t touch you.”

            “Why not?” Sam asked.  “Cas, is it your powers?  Are you able to ward him off?”

            “No. The sigils render me powerless unless you use my commands.  It’s the sigils themselves!  The collar and the manacles will affect anything and anyone that they touch. That’s why Magnus needed to make the book.”

            “The spells deactivate some of your magical restraints, right?” Sam asked. “And it’s warded so you can’t touch it.”

            “There’s far more to it than that.”  Cas indicated his collar.  “These sigils can affect more than just angels.  In order to completely restrain my powers, Magnus had to carve sigils that block almost all magic.  The book itself acts like an antidote to the sigils on my restraints.  That’s why the spells work.  As Dean saw, Magnus doesn’t need my book to remember the spells.  But as long as he held the book, he was safe from the effects of the sigils and could still use his own powers.  That’s why Zachariah wanted to buy me, because he wants my book.  Unless he is holding my book, he’ll be rendered as powerless as I am if I touch him.”

            “Which is why you were clinging to me,” Dean realized.  “That’s why Zach drew back so fast when he touched me, because Sammy had your book.  That means those sigils affected me!  You threw yourself over me and used your collar and manacles to protect me!  And you did it again that night, didn’t you? You figured out Zach was in my dreams and that’s why you put your hand on my chest!”

            Cas nodded.

            “Who is he?” Sam wanted to know.  “And why would he come into Dean’s dream pretending to be you to try to find out where Dean was?”

            Once again, Cas went silent, but Dean had a theory. “I think he wants Cas.  He wanted me to sell Cas to him at the correction, and I wouldn’t.  He could call you when you were out of the bunker’s wards, but he couldn’t control you or even touch you without your book, right, Cas?  But I bet he tried to make you go with him anyway!”

            “He wanted me to join him, yes,” Cas admitted.  “He was most adamant about it.”

            “And when you wouldn’t go of your own free will, and he couldn’t just grab you because of the sigils, he called the Enforcers,” Sam guessed.  He exchanged a look with Dean.  “He’s going to try for Cas again.  We need to protect him!”

            “What makes you think it’s me, and not the two of you he’s going after?” Cas asked.  His hands were clenched into fists on the table.  “As often as I have been sold, if he wanted me, he’s had plenty of opportunity! The only thing that has changed is you!”

            “That doesn’t make any sense,” Dean complained.  “I get him going after us to get to you, but it’s not like Sammy and I could have anything else he wants.”  He narrowed his eyes, looking at Cas.  “Or do we?”

            But Cas had that stubborn look in his eyes again.  “It doesn’t matter.  All that matters is that you can’t be found.”

            “Why’s that?” Sam asked.  “The bunker’s warded, but what’s hiding us now?”

            Once more, their angel went silent.

            “Cas, we are not giving you up, alright?” Dean assured.  “I get that Magnus probably isn’t the only one who regrets selling you.  All the other people who have owned you know you’re an angel and might decide they want you back.  But whoever it is that you’ve got chasing you, they clearly can’t find you because of those sigils, right?  So they’re trying to get to you through us!  And it’s not happening.  I told you we’re keeping you, and I meant it!”

            “What about the Novaks?” Sam asked quietly.  “Do you think we should contact them, tell them what really happened?”

            “No,” Cas said quickly.  “I don’t want them to know what’s been done to Jimmy’s body.  It’s been three years.  They probably think he’s dead, and that’s...  It’s better that way.  Better that then the truth.”  His fingers brushed over his collar.

            Dean and Sam exchanged a long look.  Finally Sam nodded.  “Alright, Cas.  If that’s what you want.  Meanwhile, we should get started on this hunt.  Are you ready?”

            Cas looked surprised.  “You still want to take me?”

            “Nothing’s changed,” Dean announced.

            “That’s right,” Sam agreed.  “This is the first attempt by Magnus to get you away from us, and there’s likely to be more.  And this Zach guy is still out there, too.  So Cas, I’m going to need you to stay very close to us, alright?  Even when we let go of your lead.”

            “Especially when we let go of your lead,” Dean growled.  “Even with your weapon, the restraints are going to put you at a serious disadvantage.  Until we can trust you enough to take them off, you can’t go off and fight on your own. Do not move more than six feet away from one of us at all times, or I swear I’ll chain you directly to me! Understand?”

            Cas made a face.  “I understand.  I was a soldier, Dean!  I know how to watch the backs of my fellow soldiers.  I’ll do my part.”

            “Alright then!”  Dean got in his bag and got out Cas’s new restraints.  “Let’s get this party started!”


	13. Wolf Hunt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The brothers take their angel on a hunting trip

            Dean crouched down outside the building behind a rusted old car, peering over the hood.  One hand held tight to his weapon.  The other gripped Cas’s leash.  The angel was crouching down next to him, narrowing his eyes at the building. For some reason, he’d chosen to wear Jimmy Novak’s trench coat.  The hem of it brushed the ground as Cas inspected the house.  “I can sense seven inside,” Cas reported.  “There are likely more in the pack, not yet joined up with the others.  It’s best we move in before the sun sets.”

            “Already earning your keep, aren’t you?” Dean admired as he waved Sam over.

            That won him a slight smile from their angel. “My ability to sense souls is innate, difficult to block.  That, and Magnus didn’t see any harm in letting me keep it.  I sure he thought it could be useful.”

            “Either way, good for us!”  Dean nodded at his brother as Sam arrived.  “Cas says there’s seven wolves inside.”

            Sam blinked in surprise.  “I was only able to spot five!”

            “Lucky for us, we’ve got an angel on our shoulder. Problem is, Cas says there’s probably more and I agree with him.”

            “Yeah, so do I.  Our best estimates are that there are over a dozen wolves in this pack. We’ve only got half of them here.”

            “And that is a problem.”  Dean frowned, looking again at the house.  Then his eyes moved back to Cas.  “Cas, can you warn us when the rest of the pack is coming?”

            “Yes, but not before they’re nearly on top of us,” Cas warned.

            “Then we got a decision to make here.  Sammy, we got half this pack sitting here in this house right now.  We take them out, all we have to do is stick around and wait for the stragglers to trail in. But if they come in while we’re inside ganking these here, we’ll get caught between them.”

            “It’s getting close to sunset,” Cas pointed out. “This location is so isolated it was difficult for us to find.  It took all day, and we saw very few other signs of civilization on the way. If we’re caught out here after dark by any returning pack members, we could be facing a difficult fight.”

            “Dean, look at their vehicles,” Sam said.  “See the luggage?  They’re packing up, getting ready to leave!  For all we know, the wolves here are just the last ones to go. If we don’t act now, there’s a chance these seven go join the rest and we lose them all!  Then the only way we’re going to find them again is when they start killing again.”

            “We can’t let that happen,” Dean sighed. “Alright.  Let’s get in there and clean these bastards out.  Cas, keep your eyes, or senses, or whatever, open for the rest of the pack.”

            “If we’re going to move, we better move fast,” Sam urged, eyeing the sun as it rapidly approached the horizon.  “Dean, give Cas his weapon and let’s go.”

            “Right!”  Dean pulled out the folded sheet of paper with the spells they’d agreed on with Cas. He’d been studying the spells and was confident he could recite the spell without the paper, but he felt better having it in his hand.  The weight of Cas’s spell book was a comfort in his pocket.  He carefully recited the spell.

            The result couldn’t be more satisfying.  Cas took a deep breath.  His eyes glowed with a bluish light.  Then he jerked his hand, and a long, silver, triangular blade appeared. Instantly Cas’s face changed. Dean could see no trace now of the broken angel.  With his blade in his hand, Castiel looked confident.  The collar around his neck had never looked more wrong.  Dean hurried to tuck the leash down in the collar of Cas’s coat, wishing he could somehow hide the long leather strap that confined the angel’s hands as well.

            “Alright, Cas,” Sammy was saying.  “You told us you can fight, and that your weapon is effective against werewolves, but you have to remember, you’re still restrained.”

            “That will be an impediment, but I’ve considered it,” Cas growled.  He already looked ready for battle.  “I don’t believe it will present a problem.”

            “And you can’t run away,” Sam urged.  “I can’t stress that enough!  We are trusting you, Castiel.  No one wants a repeat with the enforcers, alright?”

            That brought a frown to Cas’s face.  “I understand.”

            “Stay with us,” Dean ordered.  “You’re our back-up for this one, Cas, and our lookout. We’ll do most of the fighting. This one’s mostly for practice.”

            “Of course.  Now can we perhaps get on with it?  My time with my weapon is limited, and the rest of the pack could return at any time.”

            They got on with it.

            Their initial entrance into the house went off without a hitch.  Sam and Dean’s guns sang their familiar deadly tune, pumping silver bullets into the hearts of the first surprised wolves.  Three dropped before the werewolves could put up any resistance. The next three were harder.  One managed to get back around them, where Cas was waiting with his weapon.  But before she got close to him, Sam spun around and fired, and down she went. “Nice shooting!” Dean cheered. “Wish they were all that easy.”

            “Still no sign of the others,” Cas reported.  He was looking over the fallen bodies, making sure they were dead.  “Based on the packed cars, it’s possible that they could have already gone on to their next location.”

            “Let’s hope not.  Ok! Let’s head out, wait back where we hid the car, and see if they show.”  Dean was watching Cas, and knew Sammy was as well.  Both were looking to see how Cas would react to not being involved in any of the fighting.

            But Cas didn’t seem upset at all.  At least, not until Dean pulled out Cas’s list of spells. “Wait!” the angel protested. “Don’t take my weapon away yet. There’s still half of the pack out there that could potentially ambush us!”

            “He’s right, Dean,” Sammy called.  The younger Winchester’s face was troubled.  “And something’s not right here.”  The group had ended up in the kitchen, and now Sam was indicating the shelves.  “Looks like they recently got supplies.  Why would you do that when you’re planning to move?”  He peeked into the fridge.  “It’s full of perishables.  This pack was not leaving by choice.  They were running!”

            “Running from what?” Dean wondered.  “This pack was over a dozen strong!  What the hell could scare a dozen werewolves?”

            “I don’t know, but remember what Bobby said?” Sam asked.  “There have been weird things happening all over recently.  The supernatural activity is at an all-time high!  That’s why he’s meeting us out here, so we can go over it. Maybe this is yet another sign of whatever’s triggering all of that?”

            Dean nodded.  “He’ll be out here tomorrow afternoon.  We can run it by him.”

            “Dean!”

            Cas was looking into what appeared to be the master bedroom.  Dean and Sam came over, peering over the angel’s shoulder.  The room contained two bodies, lying on the bed.  Dean checked the teeth of the closest one. “Werewolf,” he announced.  “This is more of the pack.  The survivors must have brought them back here, decided they needed to split, and were getting ready to hit the road when we showed up.”

            “Cas?” Sam asked.  “If we dismiss your weapon or your time runs out, how long before we can call it back out again?”

            “What do you mean?” Dean asked.  “We can’t just call it back out again?”

            “Dean, that spell works by cancelling out some of the sigils on his restraints, letting him access his abilities,” Sam explained patiently.  “That means it doesn’t use Cas’s power, which means it takes time to recharge.  So how long, Cas?”

            The angel stared sullenly at his weapon. “Half an hour, at the earliest,” he admitted.

            Dean groaned.  “And we’ve already burned up almost a third of your time to have it out!  Dammit, Cas, that was information we needed to know. When are you going to trust us?!”

            But Cas suddenly wasn’t listening.  “There are vehicles approaching,” he called. “If the passengers are all werewolves, then this pack was bigger than you thought.  I’m sensing ten souls in three vehicles.”

            “Aw, hell!  Sammy, we gotta find a defensible position!”

            Sam was already moving.  Dean grabbed Cas by the arm and pulled him after.  The werewolves seemed to have gone out of their way to pick the worst possible house to hide in.  The three of them ended up crouching down in the bedroom with the two dead wolves, the only room with only one door and one window to defend.

            Naturally, the wolves were already alerted to their presence by the smell of blood and gunpowder and were looking for a fight. Sam and Dean barely had time to reload their weapons before they were charging into the bedroom.  Dean started firing, aware of Sammy doing the same next to him.  But the room was full of furious wolves, and suddenly the glass behind them shattered as more came through the window.

            Fortunately, Cas was there.  His silver blade flashed, driving into a wolf.  He pulled his blade free and shoved the body.  Apparently, he wasn’t kidding about his strength.  The dead wolf went flying into two more coming through the window, knocking all three back outside and taking out the window’s frame.  Cas was up and after them before Dean could react.

            Dean had his hands full.  A female werewolf jumped on him, driving the hunter to the ground and knocking his gun free.  Dean immediately went for his blade, struggling to keep the wolf from tearing out his throat.  He heard Sam grunt, realized his brother was fighting with two wolves, and kicked out, knocking one away.  The wolf stumbled, turned with a snarl and came after Dean.  Now Dean was fighting two wolves.

            Dean heaved with all his strength and managed to block wolf two with wolf one.  But then the flea-bitten bastards started working together, using their combined weight to overpower Dean, moving wolf one’s fangs closer and closer to Dean’s neck. “Sammy!” Dean called frantically.

            Suddenly, wolf two was jerked backwards.  Silver flashed, the wolf yelped, and a limp figure flew across the room.  Wolf one looked up in surprise in time to catch Cas’s fist beneath her chin.  She sailed backwards, bounced off of the bed, fell forward again and was immediately shot by Sammy, who had finally finished with his wolf.

            Cas carefully looked around while Sam helped his brother up.  Both brothers were eyeing their angel in awe.  “Cas, that was awesome!” Dean cheered.  “You did amazing!”

            “You really did,” Sam agreed.  “If you hadn’t been here today, I don’t think Dean and I would have walked out of here!”

            Cas smiled.  But his smile faded as the three of them looked at each other, the obvious becoming clear.  Finally, Sam cleared his throat.  “Cas? It’s over.  Would you put your weapon away, please?”

            Cas raised his weapon to look at it.  His face was perfectly blank.  Dean exchanged a look with his brother.  “Cas, the fight’s over, buddy.  Come on.  Put it away yourself, so I don’t have to force you, ok?”

            For a long moment, Cas didn’t move.  Feeling sick, Dean reached for the list of spells. But then Cas made a quick movement with his hand, and his blade vanished.  Immediately, individual sigils on his collar and his manacles glowed brightly. Cas hissed, grimaced as though in pain and bent over, fists clenched as his powers were once again locked down. The glowing quickly faded, and Cas straightened up again.  His eyes seemed a million miles away.

            “Thanks, Cas,” Dean called softly.  “I know that had to be hard.”

            Cas looked at him as though he had no idea who Dean was.  His eyes moved to Sammy.  Then the angel abruptly turned and jumped outside through the broken window.

            “Cas!”  Sam and Dean raced after him.  They didn’t run far.  Cas was standing just outside, a short distance from the house.  His eyes were fixed on the setting sun.  Above them, the sky where he’d once soared on magnificent ebony wings he could no longer open on his own was a riot of color. Despite the minimal exertion, Cas was panting.  His hands were clenched into fists as he watched the sunset, the leather strap between them stretched taut.

            “Cas?” Sam called, carefully approaching. “Let’s go back to the car, get back to the motel room.”

            The angel didn’t move.  Sam dared to touch Cas’s shoulder and Cas violently shook it off. “Don’t!  Don’t touch me!”

            “Cas, it’s time to go,” Dean said, moving to Cas’s side opposite Sam.  “Come on, buddy.  Will you get in the car?”

            “No.  No!  Don’t take me back, just leave me alone!”

            Once again, Dean’s angel was making him want to scream.  But this time, Dean’s frustration had nothing to do with Castiel’s stubbornness.  He understood exactly why Cas was refusing to return.

            Naturally, Sammy did, too.  “I can only imagine what you must be feeling,” he began.  “To have some of your power back and be able to fight again after all this time must have felt incredible for you.  I’m glad you had the strength to dismiss your blade yourself, instead of making us force you.  But we’ve got to take you back now.”

            “No!”

            “Castiel, you know you can’t stay here,” Sam reminded. “We can’t just let you go!”

            “I know!” Cas exclaimed.  “I know, it’s just...  You’ll chain me up again, and I...”  He shook his head.  “Please!  I can’t go back, I can’t do it!  Please don’t take me away.  Just leave me here alone!”

            The brothers exchanged a look, both realizing that their angel couldn’t force himself to go back.  “Sam?” Dean called quietly.  “We gotta take him.  Go wait in the car, I’ve got him.”

            “We’ve both got him,” Sam corrected.

            Neither brother found himself capable of pulling Cas’s leash back out of his coat and using it to drag their angel back to the car. Instead, each took one of Cas’s arms in one hand and put their other arm around him.

            Cas gave a little cry and thrashed a bit, trying to pull free.  But it was clear his heart wasn’t in it.  His face was blank as he stopped struggling, letting the brothers turn him and force him back to the car.  By the time they’d reached the Impala, Cas had stopped resisting altogether, allowing himself to be passively moved.  Sam climbed into the back seat and pulled Cas in with him with no effort at all.  The angel slumped, lying almost bonelessly against Sam.  Sam pulled him practically into his lap, tucking Cas’s head against his shoulder. “Dean?”

            “Yeah.”  Dean quickly got behind the wheel.  Some time later, he was parking in front of their motel room.

            They hurried Cas into the room.  Cas froze when the door opened, revealing the chain still attached to the built-in slave ring between the motel beds.  “No!”

            “We don’t have a choice,” Dean insisted.  “You know that, Cas.  Come on.  Don’t make this harder than it is.”

            Once again, Cas stopped resisting, letting them push him into the room to sit on one of the beds.  “We’re probably going to have to force him again, Sam,” Dean murmured to Sam as he removed the leather leash.

            “Yeah, I got that,” Sam mumbled back.

            “Can you hold his hands while I chain him back up?”

            Sam nodded.  “I’ll hold him.”  He took hold of the leather strap on Cas’s manacles and gently pulled his wrists down.

            “No, don’t!  Don’t,” Cas pleaded.  “Don’t hold me down.  I won’t fight you.  I couldn’t if I tried, but...”  He shook his head.  “Please, just let me go, give me a moment?”

            Sam immediately let him go, taking a step back.  Dean leaned on his hands on the bedside table, suddenly feeling exhausted. “Cas, we can’t let you loose.  We have to chain you up.”

            “I know, Dean!” Cas snapped.  “I know.  Just give me a moment and don’t force me!  I’ll let you chain me up.  I’ll let you, if you’ll just give me a moment?”

            They gave him a moment.  Cas took several deep breaths.  Then he nodded.  “Alright.  Do what you have to do.”

            Dean picked up Cas’s chain, but he hesitated when Cas winced.  “Cas, I...”

            “I know,” Cas whispered.  “It’s not your fault, Dean.  I hate this, but I know you hate it, too.”

            Oddly enough, that did little to make Dean feel less like a piece of shit. Sammy didn’t look much happier. He slumped against the wall, staring at the floor while Dean attached the chain to Cas’s collar.  Cas didn’t fight.  He simply turned his face away.  Once it was done, Sammy quickly took the leather strap off of his manacles. Then the two brothers stepped back, looking anxiously at Cas.

            Cas reached up, his fingers tracing the links of the chain up to the point where it attached to his collar.  He gave it an experimental tug.  When it didn’t budge, Cas let his hand drop.  He shuddered.  Then he flopped over on the bed and rolled over, putting his back to the brothers.

            That largely killed the mood for the rest of the night.  Despite the lateness of the hour, Dean and Sam stayed up for a bit, eating without tasting anything and watching whatever happened to be on TV.  Both avoided looking at Cas.  For his part, Cas didn’t move.  He stayed as he was, curled up on one of the beds.

            That created a problem when the brothers finally switched off the TV.  They looked at each other, at the one remaining bed, and back at each other.  “Don’t you spoon me,” Dean warned.

            “Dean, you’re the stealth cuddler!”

            “Am not!”

            “Are so!”

            Still grumbling a bit at each other, they both got ready for bed.  But when they returned to the beds, Cas wasn’t on either one of them.  Dean had a moment of panic before he spotted dark bedhair sticking up from between the beds and discovered Cas sitting against the wall, curled up into a ball.

            “Cas?” Sam called, crouching down in front of the angel.  “You don’t have to sit on the floor.  I can drag that chair over?”

            “I’m fine.”

            Dean dragged the chair over anyway, positioning it between the beds in easy reach of Cas’s chain in case he wanted it.  Then the brothers climbed into the beds.

            Dean lay in the darkness.  The bed was still a little warm from Cas lying on it.  He hesitated, fighting with himself.  Then he carefully reached out a hand towards the messy hair he knew was close.

            His fingers encountered more fingers, long ones already buried in Cas’s hair, gently massaging their angel’s scalp. Dean chuckled a bit and moved his own hand to the back of Cas’s head.  Great minds think alike.  He dipped his fingers into Cas’s silky hair, gently rubbing, offering what scant comfort he could until he started nodding off and felt his hand slip away.  But Cas reached out, caught his hand, and held it in his own.

            Dean’s sleep was uninterrupted by dreams.


	14. Pennance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Late at night in the motel room, Castiel is offered a choice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings

            “Why do you continue to fight?” Zachariah asked over angel radio.  “After all these mud monkeys have done to you, why protect them?”

            Castiel didn’t answer.  When he’d made his fateful choice to let the Righteous Man potentially escape to Purgatory, he’d visited Dean.  While Dean slept, Castiel had marked him, his brother, and the man helping them, carving their ribs with sigils to hide them from Heaven’s eyes. Then he’d immediately fled, leaving the Righteous Man’s fate in his own hands.  Of course his brothers had caught him, but they’d known from the moment the Righteous Man had vanished from their sight that Castiel had rebelled, that he’d chosen one precious, shining soul over Heaven.  But by then Dean was safe in Purgatory and there was nothing they could do except vent their wrath on their fallen brother.  His punishment had been worse than anything he’d experienced before. And then he’d been banished from Heaven.

            He could still vividly remember falling, hurtling towards the Earth like a blazing comet, too beaten and battered to spread his wings and slow his fall.  When he’d crashed through the roof of the old barn, he’d believed his ordeal was over. But then he’d awakened in a circle of holy flames, and his penance had just begun.

            Zachariah couldn’t see Castiel.  The sigils that trapped Castiel also shielded him from the eyes of Heaven, just as those he’d carved into the ribs of the three humans had done.  For three years, he’d heard not a whisper from the angels, even when he’d cried out to them for mercy.  But now there was no escape from his brother’s voice.  “They trapped you, Castiel,” Zachariah called.  “They chained you up like an animal.  They used you like a dirty rag to mop up their disgusting need.  They’ve beaten and abused you, ignored your pleas and commanded you with spells.  And now, irony of ironies, the very same human that you chose to disobey in order to protect now owns you.  Tell me, brother.  Has he forced himself on you as the others have?  Do he and his demon-tainted brother take turns with you?”

            Once again, Castiel didn’t answer.

            “How can you bear this, Castiel?  How can you stand to let them put their hands on you? It doesn’t have to be this way!  Tell us where to find the Righteous Man, and we will set you free!  You can come back to Heaven, and the plan, the Apocalypse, will continue as our Father ordered.”

            There it was.  The very thing that had stirred doubt in Castiel for the first time since he’d been created.  All of his life, he’d done as his Father commanded.  But only a handful of angels had ever even seen their Father, ever heard His voice.  When Gabriel abandoned Heaven and hid on the Earth, it had been a scandal.  But as time went by with no word from God and no definitive plans to find or punish the wayward archangel, the first seeds of doubt had been planted.  Then Anna, his garrison leader, had fallen as well.  By the time Castiel had realized that the Righteous Man would escape the hellhounds and his fate in Hell, he’d already realized that the rumors about God taking a sabbatical were true.  The orders he’d followed without question didn’t come from his Father.  They were coming from archangels and leaders in Heaven that were every bit as lost as he was himself.

            To disobey was the worst crime an angel could commit.  Castiel obeyed.  He followed his orders like a good soldier.  He’d questioned nothing.  But deep in his mind, the questions, and the doubt, grew.

            Things had come to a head when he’d finally seen the Righteous Man.  Never before had he encountered a soul like this one.  It burned brighter than any he’d ever seen, resonating oddly with his Grace.  Castiel had never even heard of anything like it.  He’d asked his superiors about it, but was told to follow his orders.  So he’d followed his orders.  He watched over the Righteous Man, interfering as little as possible while still driving him towards his fate.  Distracting him at a crucial moment just as his brother entered a diner.  Then Sam was gone and Dean was determined to save him.  When Jake plunged his dagger into Sam’s back, Dean’s fate was all but sealed.

            Castiel had watched Dean’s interaction with the crossroad demon in silence.  Now his fate was sealed.  The Righteous Man would go to Hell in one year, and nothing and no one could stop it. There was no breaking his deal.

            Except there was.

            Castiel had come to them the final night before Dean would be taken to Hell if their plan didn’t work.  The brothers lay asleep, oblivious to the loud snores coming from their friend and mentor as the older man slept in the other room. Castiel had stood over Dean’s bed, looking down at the Righteous Man.  Dean’s soul glistened, seeming to call to him.  Little wonder Sam and Bobby were so desperate to save it.  The spell they’d found to send Dean to Purgatory was a dangerous one, requiring the blood of a hellhound.  They were risking everything on one last gambit, letting the hellhounds come to Dean in hopes of killing one to complete the spell before Dean could be torn apart.  It would be easy to disrupt.  All Castiel had to do was give the smallest nudge, break the salt line and allow the hellhounds to reach Dean.  That was it. The Righteous Man would go to Hell and be broken, setting up the chain of events that Heaven had painstakingly set into place.  Just a few misplaced grains of salt.  Castiel could do it with barely a thought.  And no one, no one would ever know it had been him.  By this time tomorrow, the shining soul before him would be suffering in Hell.

            It was wrong.

            Castiel’s hand moved before he knew it, reaching out to touch the chest of the Righteous Man.  His Grace surged, carving the protective runes into Dean’s chest.  Dean whimpered a little, the slight, sudden pain disrupting but not quite breaking his slumber.  It was done.  Castiel hurried to mark the other two and flew out.  Already, he could hear Heaven’s outrage, the threats that if Castiel had done anything to disrupt the plan, if the Righteous Man was not sent to Hell, Castiel would face terrible consequences.  But now Dean’s fate was in the hands of his brother and their friend, with all three hidden from the eyes of Heaven.

            In the end, Dean had escaped to Purgatory, and Castiel had been thrown down to Earth.

            He remembered waking, groaning in pain, blinking open his weary eyes and seeing the smiling face of the magician peering at him through the flames.  “Oh, look at you!” Magnus crooned.  “I knew you’d be powerful, but I never expected you to be beautiful, as well! You are going to be the crown jewel of my collection, and more!”

            Castiel hadn’t known what he meant.  He didn’t understand why Magnus looked at him with such a strange expression, an odd sort of longing.  He didn’t know why Magnus’s eyes roamed over him, why the magician constantly called him beautiful and talked about how he couldn’t wait to get his hands on him.  When he’d realized that Magnus was trying to enslave him, Castiel had believed it was for his skills as a warrior.  Magnus wanted a fighter.  What else could it be?  But Castiel wasn’t worried.  No mere human could hope to enslave an angel!

            But then he’d felt the power the man wielded, and his confidence flagged, grew into concern.  No matter. Heaven would never allow one of their own to be taken and controlled.  Castiel paced around in his circle, waiting impatiently for rescue.  By the time Magnus completed the restraints and threw them in with him, Castiel was certain he’d be rescued any moment.  This could not stand.  But the collar and manacles that Magnus was designing were designed to be permanent.  Once locked into place, there was no physical means to open them.  The Enochian sigils were alarmingly well carved.  They were designed to trap Castiel forever.  For the first time, Castiel felt a trace of fear. If Magnus managed to lock these onto him, he really would be enslaved!  But it didn’t matter.  Magnus could have no spell strong enough to force him to put them on.

            But Magnus hadn’t needed a spell.  All he’d needed was simple mechanics, drawing the circle of flames tighter and tighter around Castiel until the flames singed his very Grace.  Castiel screamed in pain.  He pleaded with the magician to let him out, looked again and again towards Heaven and listened desperately for any word.  Finally did the one thing he’d believed he’d never do and called for help. But only silence met his call.

            At last, unable to bear the pain any longer, Castiel had put on the manacles, wincing as they sapped his strength and hoping it would be enough.  But Magnus had insisted he lock the collar on as well.  The sound the restraints made as they snapped shut seemed unnaturally loud, especially once the collar closed permanently around his neck.  But Magnus kept his word, doused the flames.  Castiel quickly stepped out of the circle, but other than the fact he was no longer being singed, he realized with dismay that he felt no different.  His powers were still locked away.  In fact, he had less of his own Grace available to him than he had before.  He’d never felt so weak, so powerless.

            “Beautiful,” Magnus whispered, reaching out a hand to stroke Castiel’s face.  “You’re perfect, and all mine!”

            Castiel ran.  Almost immediately, arms went around him, a heavy body driving him to the ground.  It aggravated his burns.  Castiel cried out in pain, pried at the arms around him.  He couldn’t fight.  If he tried, the runes on his restraints flared, making him go limp for a moment. He didn’t have the strength to pry the arms away.  He couldn’t struggle free.  Magnus easily held him down, and Castiel panicked.  “Let me go!”

            But Magnus wouldn’t let him go.  How he’d laughed, leaning down to sniff Castiel’s neck, turning Castiel so that he was pinned on his back on the ground, heedless of his burns.  In his true form, he could have tossed the magician aside.  He could have burned the very soul out of the man for daring to touch him.  But Castiel was trapped in his vessel, his powers locked away and his strength sapped. There was a rattle, Magnus raising a chain towards his collar.  Castiel cried out, squirmed with all the strength he had left.  “No!  Get off me!”

            “I don’t know why you’re fighting, Castiel,” Magnus said.  He’d drawn the secret of Castiel’s name from him this morning, Castiel giving in to this in the hopes of escaping the flames.  “You’ve restrained yourself!  It was your hands that closed the collar around your neck.  All I’m doing is attaching an ordinary chain.  Your enslavement is of your own doing.”

            “No, please, let me up, I don’t understand! Why are you doing this?  I won’t fight for you!”

            “Oh, my lovely angel,” Magnus laughed, clicking the chain into place on Castiel’s collar.  “You’re mine now, and you will do anything I tell you.  But it’s not a fighter I’m interested in.”

            Then Magnus had kissed him for the first time. Castiel still remembered the shock of it, the sense of violation as the magician pressed his lips to his, drawing out his startled gasp.  Prevented by the sigils from trying to attack Magnus, all he could do was push uselessly at him.  It wasn’t enough to make Magnus stop.  There had been more kisses, another chain to confine his hands, and Magnus’s hands all over Castiel.  And still, Castiel didn’t understand.

            Understanding came later, when Magnus took him to his hidden home, chained him to an elaborate bed and started using the new spells on him.  It was another violation, feeling his Grace surge and react in response to the spell without his control.  With a few words, Magnus removed his clothing, forced Castiel to display his wings and kneel before him.  And there, at last, came the one bit of hope Castiel had.  While he could do nothing against Magnus’s spells and was forced to obey, he could, with effort, break free of the spell’s hold.  Magnus couldn’t completely control him.  Castiel could still resist.

            The magician’s fury at being denied was the only bit of satisfaction Castiel had.  Over and over, Magnus forced him to obey only for Castiel to once again struggle free.  Castiel wasn’t spared the indignity when the spell initially took hold of him, but at least he could take back some small measure of satisfaction in the knowledge that Magnus was thwarted, that he wasn’t getting what he’d wanted.  By now, Castiel had come to the sickening understanding of what, exactly, it was that Magnus wanted him for.  It disgusted Castiel.  At first, he’d comforted himself that it was his vessel that Magnus wanted.  What happened to an angel’s vessel couldn’t affect an angel.  But the lie of this became apparent as Magnus kissed him over and over, touched him, and kept trying to force him to submit.  It was only his vessel, but Castiel was inside of it. This was happening to him, and he would be the one to suffer through it if Magnus got his way.

            As time passed and Magnus still was unable to force him into submission, Castiel came to know the hidden room.  He’d suffered greatly there, and when he’d still refused to submit, Magnus had finally dragged Castiel to the bed, tied him down and taken what he’d wanted.  It was, bar none, the worst thing that had happened since Castiel had been captured.  Afterwards, Magnus had fallen into a peaceful sleep on the bed where he’d just ruined an angel.  Castiel had been untied and ordered to the floor.  He curled up into a ball on the floor, hurt beyond his wildest dreams in far more than a physical sense.  There, he’d once again called to Heaven.

            “Help me, my brothers!  Surely you cannot stand for this to happen to one of your own! Imprison me or kill me, but don’t leave me here to bear this again!”

            But only silence had answered his desperate prayer.

            Castiel’s penance went on.  Magnus wouldn’t leave him alone.  He was constantly touching him, kissing him, rapidly reciting various spells, doing everything he could to force Castiel to submit to his demands. And Castiel continued to fight. It would result in more sessions in the hidden room, and ultimately to further rapes.  He’d questioned Magnus once.  “Why do you do this to me?  All you want is to use me, and the only options you offer are to submit to your spells, give in to your beatings, or be tied down and forced!  You’re giving me no real choice.  No matter what, you’ll still rape me again!”

            “You’ll like it if you give in, Castiel,” Magnus had assured, kissing him again.  “You’ll learn to enjoy it.  I can make it good.”

            It didn’t matter that Castiel didn’t want it, that the thought of Magnus touching him made it seem as if the very skin of his vessel would crawl off and slither away.  As it went on and on Castiel lost all hope.  “Kill me,” he’d pleaded.  “Please, just end this!  I can’t take anymore!”

            But Magnus refused.  He was determined to keep him and finally Castiel lashed out in the only way he could, destroying anything he could destroy in Magnus’s collection.  It had resulted in the worst beating he’d received to date.  Afterwards, Magnus had taken him, still covered in bruises, to the auction house, where he’d been sold.

            The first time he’d been dragged to the auction block, Castiel had no idea what to expect.  He’d later learned that a select few clients who’d known about the existence of the supernatural had come to bid on him, eager for the chance to own an angel. The bidding had been intense before Castiel was finally sold.  He was sedated, rendered unconscious, and woke up chained to the bed of his new owner.

            It started again.  The touches, the kisses.  The spells to force him to submit, followed by surprise and then anger when Castiel was able to struggle free.  His new owner quickly abandoned the spells in favor of corporal punishment. And at the end, he’d followed the exact same path as Magnus in tying Castiel down and forcing him.  Again, Castiel was told if he’d just give in, just let it happen, he would enjoy it.  But Castiel refused.  The beatings grew more severe, with Castiel holding out hope that his owner would become so furious he’d eventually end his suffering.  But instead, Castiel found himself once more on the auction block.

            He endured.  Each owner knew what he was.  They were very proud to own an angel.  Often they would force him to open his wings, so they could show him off to others.  Not one of them saw the sick horror of this, the sheer blasphemy of using a glimpse of the divine as little more than a party trick.  But by now, Castiel had come to understand exactly what he was. He wasn’t a warrior anymore.  Now he was only a plaything, a toy called “angel” who was valued for his celestial origin even as he was debased, degraded, beaten, tied down and used again and again.  Most of them enjoyed seeing him suffer, so Castiel learned quickly to stay silent, to go deep inside himself when they tormented him and show as little of his pain as he could.

            By now, Castiel’s entire focus was simply to end his suffering.  He had no hope of freedom, only the release that the end of his miserable existence would bring.  Being an angel only meant that it was easy to trap him, to force him down with spells. He forgot that he could once level cities and knew only that his body would heal quickly from whatever damage his owners inflicted on it.  He forgot that he’d once soared the skies and sought only to hide in the darkest corners to avoid pain.  His only mission was to fight, to frustrate each owner in hopes that they would end him. It was almost a pleasure to watch how quickly his value plummeted each time he was sold.  It would end soon.  It had to end soon.  Eventually, no one would buy him and then it would be over.  He simply had to endure until then.

            Then he’d gone to the auction house for the last time, and he’d seen him in the crowd.  The Righteous Man.  How could he have forgotten such a glorious soul?  This wasn’t the soul of a saint, or a holy man.  It wasn’t even the soul of a good man.  The soul was stained with guilt, burdened with the weight of the things this man had done or allowed to happen or encouraged in others.  But this was unmistakably the Righteous Man.  The one who would suffer for the sake of others. The man who was willing to condemn his own soul to Hell to save his brother.  Dean Winchester was here, and for a moment Castiel despaired.  If this would be his new owner, if the Righteous Man were to treat Castiel as all his other owners had done, Castiel didn’t think he could find the strength to go on.

            But neither Dean nor his brother were bidding on any slaves.  If anything, they were doing their best to avoid even looking at them.  Castiel had watched the two brothers from his cage before the auction, kept on watching them as the auction progressed.  Then Sam came close, and Castiel saw his chance.  Quick as a flash, he’d reached out, plucked the bidding paddle from the hunter’s pocket.  “You dropped this.”

            What had compelled him to do it?  Castiel still didn’t have an answer.  In the end, he’d only wanted even this much contact with the Righteous Man, one chance to look his brother in the eyes.  The hazel eyes turned to him and Castiel stared deeply into them, searching for answers.  Was it worth it?  Was my sacrifice, what I have suffered to save your brother, worth it?  Was this world a little better because Dean Winchester avoided his fate?  But you avoided yours as well, didn’t you?  With your brother at your side, you were able to stand against a demon who might otherwise have destroyed you.  So were you worth it, Sam Winchester?  Could two human brothers possibly be worth all that I have endured?

            Sam’s eyes held no answer.  What they held was compassion.  He’d seen Sam wince as Castiel’s chain was pulled taut, as he was dragged back.  How strange, to see compassion in the eyes of this one, so corrupted by demon blood and a grieving brother’s crossroads deal.  Maybe Castiel had his answer after all.

            It helped.  He felt a small measure of peace even as he fought, as usual, when he was dragged to the auction block.  Resigned to his fate, Castiel waited to be sold.  He paid no attention to the bidding, disassociating himself from the whole process until the gavel came down.  But when he learned that it was Sam Winchester who had just bought him, Castiel’s entire world came crashing down.  No.  No torment in Hell could be this cruel, to send him in chains to the one he’d fallen to save.  But there was nothing he could do.  He was dragged back, sedated, and once again, woke up on a strange bed.  But this time, his chain lay coiled next to him.  His wrists were confined, but nothing prevented him from exploring his new environment.  He’d gone out, found the Righteous Man and his corrupted brother.  But he couldn’t face them.  He couldn’t learn that all of his suffering had been in vain for a man who would never deserve it.

            Once again, he was given no choice.  The spells dragged him back, starting the same old fight he’d gone through over and over when his owners realized they couldn’t fully control him with spells.  But it was Sam who had once again shown compassion, coming to his aid when Castiel had been certain Dean was about to beat him.

            Castiel nearly broke down weeping when Dean took him into his room, chained him to the bed, and climbed in.  No.  If the Righteous Man raped him like everyone else had, Castiel knew, he would lose himself completely.  He’d ignored Dean’s obvious intentions and climbed instead into the chair, acting as if he hadn’t known what was expected of him.  That had produced an extremely confusing interaction.  The two had sparred verbally, and then Dean had angrily stayed in his bed alone.  The bewildered angel had been left, still chained to Dean’s bed, unmolested in the chair. All night, Castiel waited, dreading the moment when the chain would go tight at his throat, dragging him into Dean’s bed.  But it didn’t happen.

            The next day brought what it always did – his new owner trying to learn how to command Castiel with his spell book.  At least Dean seemed reluctant to use the spells to try to force Castiel to submit to him sexually.  And when Castiel made his mistake with the car, he’d been sure that now the long-anticipated beating would come.  It hadn’t.  Even as Castiel bitterly resented being forced to use his God-given angelic powers to repair a car, part of him had known that this could have, should have, ended far, far worse.  And by the time Dean chose not to sell him back to Magnus, whom Castiel hadn’t even been aware had still wanted him, Castiel had allowed himself to hope. Dean was not a good man.  Dean himself would readily admit to that.  But maybe, just maybe, he really was a Righteous Man still.

            The thought had rattled Castiel more than he cared to admit.  For three years, always, in the back of Castiel’s mind, had been a lingering doubt. He’d been wrong about the Righteous Man. He deserved this penance for destroying Heaven’s plans.  But what if he’d been right all along?  If that was the case, then it meant that Heaven was wrong.  It meant Castiel had suffered unjustly for three long, horrible years.

            The thought shattered the few defenses Castiel had. Suddenly, everything that had happened to him seemed so horribly, terribly wrong that it sickened him.  How could Heaven be so backwards?  Had Castiel ever truly been serving his Father’s will, or had he been blindly obeying the wrong orders all this time?  If Heaven had been wrong about Dean, then they’d also been wrong about letting Magnus have him.  And now all he could feel was Magnus touching him, kissing him. Over and over again, he went back to his time with the magician.  So many had hurt Castiel, but it had been Magnus, the one who had first captured him, who had done the most to break him.  And broken he was.  Alone in the darkness, there was no hiding it now.

            Then something changed.  For three years, he’d heard nothing but silence from Heaven. But now came the call.  “Dean Winchester has been found.”

            Startled, Castiel had looked over at Dean, saw him shifting restlessly in his troubled dream, and done the only thing he could. He’d touched Dean, using the power of his bindings to drive out the intruder he knew had to be present.  Of course Dean had awakened.  But Castiel had never imagined Dean might care, might offer the comfort Castiel had been too long without.  Dean held him close and for the first time in three years, Castiel felt safe.  By morning, it felt like a new beginning.  When Sam removed his chain and Castiel realized he could wander freely, he’d gone outside, breathed the fresh air, and struggled with the decision he had to make.  Should he tell Sam and Dean the truth about why he was here, warn them of the danger they faced, and risk them selling him again, sending him away?  Or should he stay silent, let them keep him, and guard them in the only way he could?

            Zachariah’s call ended his debate.  “Castiel.  Enough, brother.  You’ve served your penance.  It’s time to come home.”

            Castiel hadn’t believed him.  He’d refused to tell Zachariah where he was, offering instead to come to him.  Then he’d taken the shiny car he’d damaged and repaired and managed to drive out to meet his superior.

            Zachariah was smiling as Castiel approached. “Castiel, rejoice!  Michael has agreed to break your bindings and allow you to return to your former place.  All this time, we’d believed you’d fallen, turned your back on Heaven and deserved your fate.  But now, the prophet has seen you with the Righteous Man!  Until then, we’d thought he was lost in Purgatory, but last night, I sought out his dreams.  It’s true! Dean Winchester is alive, and you’ve found him for us!  You’ve fulfilled your mission after all!”

            Nothing the other angel said could have stunned Castiel more.  “What?!”

            “The Righteous Man,” Zachariah repeated.  “Michael’s Sword!  You’ve found him for us again!  And things have already begin.  The first seal is broken and the first demon is free.  Even now, more seals are being broken.  The time has come for Michael to reclaim his Sword.  Now is the moment you can redeem yourself! Tell us where he is, give him to us, and you can be free!”

            “No,” Castiel said simply.  “I turned my back on my mission when I turned my back on Heaven. This is the first time I have found another soul willing to be kind to me since I was banished and enslaved.  I won’t give it up now!  I did not endure three years of suffering to break my resolve and give Dean Winchester to the ones who abandoned me!”

            “Don’t be absurd!” Zachariah exclaimed, taken aback. “You are an angel, Castiel.  Your only job is to obey!”

            “I may be an angel, but I stopped being a mindless drone, simply obeying orders, three years ago,” Castiel declared.  “I will not give Heaven the Righteous Man. Give him up, and seek out another vessel for Michael!”

            “You won’t give him to us?”

            “No, brother, I will not!”

            Zachariah’s face had twisted into anger.  “Then let me remind you of exactly what it is you really are!”

            It had surprised Castiel, how quickly the Enforcers had arrived.  Part of him wondered if Zachariah, anticipating Castiel’s disobedience, hadn’t already called them even before the two of them spoke.

            His former owners had told him nothing of this, what would happen if he’d ever succeeded in running away.  But of course, they’d never anticipated he’d be able to escape, bound as he was in chains and spells.  What happened to him then was a shock.  The times he’d been defiled by his owners were bad enough, but for it to happen in public was even worse.  He’d fought until he was exhausted, but there was nothing he could do. Zachariah made certain he was positioned directly in front of Castiel when he was on the correction rack, smiling as Castiel was raped again and again, as the first blows of the whip came down.  The Enforcers told him that they were doing their duty, that his master wanted him punished.  The knowledge that Sam and Dean wanted him punished had hurt worse than the physical pain or even the humiliation he’d suffered.  But what did he expect?  He’d run away.  He was getting precisely what he deserved.

            Except Sam and Dean hadn’t wanted him to be punished. They were angry, upset.  It was almost as though they’d blamed themselves somehow.  They’d been kind, cared for him in a way no one else ever had.  And Castiel was shaken by it.

            He longed to be free.  But now he no longer wished for death.

            The hands of the brothers had slipped from his hair as sleep took them.  Castiel clasped them in his own, protecting them from those he knew were searching. Castiel knew what it was that had frightened the werewolves.  They were outside now, their black eyes trying to peer into the windows, to see past the salt lines that kept them out.  Sam shifted a bit in his sleep, some primal instinct warning him of the danger that lay beyond the salt lines.  And in Castiel’s head, Zachariah still spoke on angel radio.

            “You can’t hide them forever.  And even if you could, there will be others, companions that will seek them out.  We’ll find them.”

            “Do your best.  I will protect the Winchesters with all I am.  It’s all I’ve got left to me now.”

            “This is pointless!”  Zachariah’s voice was filled with frustration.  “Why are you so determined to hide the Righteous Man, Castiel? Things are coming to a head very soon. Give us Dean Winchester, and you will be forgiven!”

            Castiel held tight to the brothers’ hands.  “No.”


	15. Bodies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel makes his move to protect the brothers, but things don't go as he'd hoped. Bobby steps in to save the day. Benny and Garth lend a hand.

            Bobby was cursing before he was even fully through the door.  “What the hell did you idjits do?!  You bought an angel slave?!”

            “In Sammy’s defense, he didn’t know Cas was an angel when he bought him,” Dean defended.

            “Yeah, I was just trying to keep Magnus from getting his hands on him,” Sam added.

            “And now Magnus is gunning for you?”

            “Apparently, if the box of clothes is any indication,” Sam agreed.  “Seems like he’s warning us somehow.”

            “And because that wasn’t enough of a challenge for you, you decided to piss off more demons, too?”

            “I’m afraid that’s my fault,” Cas called.

            “Cas, don’t even go there,” Dean growled.  “You went out there and fired up those sulfury bastards like roman candles! That was epic!  And you let us use a spell you didn’t originally want to tell us about to do it!”

            “That was a big step, Castiel,” Sam admired.  “I understand why you didn’t want us to know about it.  The fact that you could smite something like that? It’s too much power for someone like Magnus to wield lightly!”

            “I knew that lightning bolt spell wasn’t a weird sex thing,” Dean bragged.

            Bobby blinked.  “Weird sex thing?  You know what, I don’t even want to know.”

            “Honestly, though, the best part is that Cas was able to handle getting that much of his power back, and then having it locked away again,” Sam said.

            “That first time with the werewolves was bad,” Cas admitted.  “This was better, because I was better able to prepare.” He scowled.  “I was not, however, prepared for what you did to me afterwards!”

            “Oh, let’s talk about ‘afterwards,’ shall we?!” Bobby exclaimed.  “Because it looks to me like you two idjits let your angel slave burn through a mob of demons right in the front parking lot of a seedy motel in broad daylight, and now you’re trying to avoid being wanted for mass murder!  You said there were twenty bodies, all the other guests and the desk clerk?!”  He shook his head in disbelief.  “It’s a damned good thing the place was nearly empty, or we’d have ended up burning it down and high tailing it before the firefighters got here!”

            “I still don’t understand why that’s an issue,” Cas complained.  “If we simply go to the authorities, explain to them that I’m an angel and I was just smiting demons, I’m sure they’ll...”

            “Balls!”

            “Now you see what we’re up against,” Dean sighed.  “Cas is awesome and insanely powerful, but he’s never had to deal with things like mass casualties and legal issues before.  It never even occurred to him to worry about it!”

            “Well, I’m sorry!” Cas grumbled.  The angel was hunched at the head of one of the beds, obviously sulking.  “My ‘social skills’ are ‘lacking!’”

            Bobby stared.  “Did the angel just make air quotes?”

            “Yes, he did,” Sam confirmed.  “Honestly, this whole thing is my fault.  We woke up this morning and Cas asked us when you would get there because he had something to tell us.  But meanwhile, he wouldn’t let go of us until we promised we wouldn’t go outside.  Then once we got dressed, he asked to be unchained from the wall, so we did.  Then he said he wanted to trust us with another one of his spells and asked us to read the spell with the lightning bolt.  I never stopped to ask what the spell did because I was so excited he was trusting us with that spell.  I just read it.”

            “Idjit!”

            “That seriously was one of the stupidest things you’ve ever done, Sammy,” Dean said.

            “I know,” Sam sighed.  “In retrospect, I cannot believe I did it.  But I did!”

            “And the next thing we know, Cas is charging out the door, lighting up demons like Christmas trees!” Dean finished, excited again.  “It was awesome!  Right up to the point where we realized we now had a parking lot full of dead bodies with their eyes burned out and no way to explain ourselves.”

            “So you decided the right thing to do was drag them all in and pile them all up in a motel bathroom?”  Bobby shook his head, his eyes moving across the bodies on the floor.  “Balls!”

            “That,” Dean amended, “and keep Cas chained up tight unless and until we know exactly what he’s going to do.”

            “You didn’t have to do that!” Cas yelled.  He jerked on his chain.  It was brought up short and fastened to the slave ring in the wall between the beds, leaving him with very little room to move, and the angel was furious about it. “Let me go!  I made a mistake, but how else were you planning on getting out of here?  Those demons were howling at the salt lines all night, jumped into human bodies the first chance they got, and then waited for you to come out.  You would have been swarmed under for sure!”

            “Then that is something you need to tell us, Castiel!” Sam sighed.  “You let us know a big spell, and that’s a real step forward...”

            “So you chained me to the wall?!”  Cas yanked on the chain again.

            “Yes, we chained you to the wall!” Sam exclaimed.  “Cas, you’re still struggling with the trust thing.”

            “I do trust you!  That’s why I let you use my powers to fight those demons!”

            “But you didn’t talk to us!” Sam stressed.  “That’s where the problem is.  You needed to tell us what you’re doing, what your plans were, before you ran out and did them.  If you’d done that, we wouldn’t be in this mess.  But now we’ve got to keep you under lock and key because we simply can’t trust that you won’t do something rash and dig us in even deeper!”

            “Well, I’m sorry!  Let me go!”

            “Come on, Cas, settle down,” Dean said, seeing Castiel continue to jerk angrily on his chain.  “We just need to keep you safe and out from underfoot until we get this mess straightened out.”

            “Sounds to me like a good idea to me,” Bobby grunted.  “I never really was comfortable with slaves myself.  Always felt like they were judging me somehow. Normal slaves are bad enough but an angel?”  He shook his head.  “Boy, I do not even know where to begin with you!”

            “We begin by leaving him right there, chained safely to that wall, while we get the bodies ready to transport to the closest dump site we can find,” Dean declared.  “That way I know he’s safe.  For once we got lucky because you weren’t far off, Benny and Garth will be along soon. We already filled them in.  Once they get here, we drag the bodies out, and cover them up in the back of your truck.  We’ll figure out a way to secure Cas somewhere safe while we dump and burn the bodies when we get there.”

            Cas scowled.

            Bobby frowned.  “Seems to me it would be a better idea to leave the angel here and come back for him when we’re done.”

            “No!”  Now Cas was on his feet.  “Don’t leave me behind.  I can see the true faces of demons, even when they’re inside of the people they’ve possessed. And I’m the best weapon you have to use against them!  Don’t leave me behind!”

            “Relax, Cas, I’m not leaving you behind,” Dean sighed.  “If for no other reason than because I have no intention of coming back to this room.  Besides, I won’t feel like you’re safe unless you’re somewhere I can keep an eye on you. We’ll just chain you to a tree or something when we get out there.”

            This did not improve Castiel’s temper.  “Don’t chain me to a tree!  I can help! Just use that leather strap and the leash like you used on the werewolf hunt.”

            “Castiel, we can’t keep track of you and drag out, burn, and bury twenty bodies,” Sam explained patiently.  “We’re going to have to chain you up somewhere.”

            “No, you don’t!”

            “There’s actually a slave teether built into my pick-up?” Bobby offered.  “I’m sure it’s meant for farm workers when the back’s loaded with stuff, but we could chain him up in there while we’re dumping the bodies.”

            “I don’t want to be chained up in a truck!”

            “That might actually be a good idea,” Sam said reluctantly.  “At least in the truck, he’ll be protected by the wards and hex bags you’ve got in there.”

            “Then it’s settled,” Bobby declared.  “We’ll chain him up in my truck and leave him in there at least until we’re done with the bodies.”

            “Why won’t anyone listen to me?!” Cas exclaimed.  He was yanking on his chain again.  “Let me go and use the leash and strap.  I won’t run away or do anything without telling you first.  Let me loose and I can watch your backs!”

            “Cas, if we chain you in the truck, you can keep watch there,” Dean pointed out. “Bottom line, we all agree it’s best that we chain you up.”

            Cas gave Dean a bitch face worthy of Sam.  “Assbutt!”

            “Assbutt?” Sam repeated.

            Dean blinked.  “That? Had to be the most adorable thing ever!”

            Cas apparently did not care to be called adorable.  He threw himself on the bed like a petulant child.  “What happened to us being partners?!  Am I only your partner when it’s convenient, and the rest of the time you just chain me up like a dog and keep me out of the way? Fine.  As you wish, masters!”

            That took the humor off of the faces of both brothers.

            “Castiel?”  Bobby’s voice held a note of warning.  “That’s enough.  We’re putting you in my truck and that’s the end of it.  Not only will it keep you out of the way of any temptations, but you’ll be safer there.  All our vehicles are loaded with wards and hex bags.”

            “We’re just trying to keep you safe, Cas,” Sam soothed.

            Cas looked unconvinced, but he went silent.

            “Come on, think about it!  You’re a sitting duck until we read that smite spell, and at best, we can only use it once every half an hour,” Dean pointed out.  “Let’s face it, Cas, without your powers, you’re basically a baby in a trench coat.”

            Cas gaped at him and then looked away, profoundly offended.

            “You hurt his feelings,” Sam sighed.  Dean shrugged.

            A moment later, Garth and Benny arrived.  Garth seemed fascinated by Castiel.  He tried to draw the angel into conversation, but Cas turned his back on the werewolf and ignored him completely.  Benny appeared unimpressed.  The big vampire did the lion’s share of dragging the bodies, wrapped in sheets they’d stolen from the housekeeper’s closet, out to the truck. Then, when Cas tried again to argue against being chained in the truck, Benny unlocked his chain, dumped Cas unceremoniously over his shoulder, and carried the sputtering, furious angel out to the truck.  He held Cas in the seat, ignoring his struggles while Bobby quickly fastened him to the slave teether just behind the seat.  Then Benny simply went back to work without another word.  Cas jerked furiously on his chain, realized he was caught, and immediately slumped in the seat, where he lapsed into a resentful silence.

            Dean made excuse after excuse to check on his angel.  He made sure Castiel had enough slack in his chain that he wouldn’t be choked if Bobby had to slam on the brakes.  He put Cas’s seatbelt on three times, even though the angel kept irritably taking it back off.  He even cleaned off the back window a bit so that Cas’s view would be unimpeded while he served as lookout.  The fact that it was currently blocked by bodies didn’t matter.  Cas ignored him, refusing to meet Dean’s eyes.  Dean saw without really paying attention that he had help in trying to keep Cas in his seatbelt, and that Cas suddenly had a pillow behind his back.  But it wasn’t until he returned to the truck yet again and encountered Sam trying to offer a bottle of water to a surly angel who didn’t eat or drink that he realized what they were both doing.  “Sam?” Dean called.  “He’s fine. We both need to leave him alone and stop trying to coddle and placate him.”  He indicated Cas, who had stubbornly turned away from them both. “He’s pissed.  He needs to cool down before we can try being friends again.”

            Sam looked down at the bottle in his hand and blushed.  He nodded.  “I’ll, um, go with Garth.  Take Benny with you, and we’ll all follow Bobby and Cas to the dump site.”

            Good idea.  All three of their friends had been giving the brothers looks as they’d been making fools of themselves trying to get back into their angel’s good graces.  Now Garth was eyeing them in confusion, Bobby was scowling, and Benny was staring flatly at Dean as he skulked his way back to his baby.

            At least Benny was nice enough to wait until they were on the road to start. “That’s a pretty angel you got there, Dean,” he noted.  “You always did like a nice pair of blue eyes.”

            Dean’s hands tightened on the wheel.  “It’s not like that.  Cas has just been through a lot of shit, ok?  He recently got a correction from the Enforcers!  We’re just trying to help him.”

            “What’d they correct him for?  Normally they only do that to runaway slaves.”

            “Well, yeah, he did run away,” Dean admitted.  “He took my baby and ended out clear in the state forest.  Some slimy asshole spotted him and called the Enforcers on him.”

            “Seems to me it’s a good thing they did, brother.  Otherwise you’d be out your angel.”

            “Cas wasn’t trying to run away!  Not at first,” Dean amended.  “At first, he just wanted to go outside into the fresh air.  But someone called him, and that’s why he took my baby and ran off. Honestly, Benny, I think that the guy who called him out there and the guy who called the Enforcers on him may just be one and the same.”

            “How’d he even get out in the first place?”

            “Sammy got a little too enthusiastic about the progress we’d made getting him to trust us and took his chain off.”

            Benny winced.  “Not a smart move.  What slave worth his salt wouldn’t run away?”

            “That’s what I mean.  Cas just doesn’t want to be a slave, that’s all.  I mean, who would?”

            “Some sold themselves into it to get themselves or their families out of debt,” Benny reminded.  “Not many of those.  Some were bred.  But brother, most slaves end up in collars because they were convicted of breaking a red law.  You know that better than anyone.  That’s precisely what happened to a lot of hunters who got caught breaking them in our line of work.  You and your brother bought and freed a couple of ‘em.  You must have come close yourselves a time or two.”

            “I don’t know of a hunter who hasn’t.  Any criminal act that results in loss of life or limb, any act of theft of money or property worth greater than $250,000, or any act of assault or direct intimidation of a Slave Law Enforcement officer performing his or her duty as an Enforcer is a red law, potentially punishable by enslavement,” Dean recited.  “Sammy came way too close to door number three when we got Cas back.”

            Benny hummed.  “I’m amazed he’d take that risk, considering how you two are still wanted by the FBI.” He frowned and straightened. “Say, you didn’t do anything stupid, like register him as your slave, did you?”

            Dean cringed.  “We had to. It was the only way the Enforcers would let us take him back!”

            “Not a smart move, cher!” Benny scolded.  “Even if you used one of your fake IDs, that still puts you on the official radar, connected to a slave with, frankly, piss poor discipline.  If Castiel runs off and gets caught again? If your names flag when they check his registration, they’ll have you both!”

            “We had to get him back, Benny!” Dean yelled.  “Cas didn’t even know about the Enforcers, alright?  He had no idea what would happen to him if he got caught! Besides, there was no way I was leaving my angel to be raped and whipped and then sold at a public auction to anyone who happened to have the cash to buy him.  Not Cas!”

            Benny sighed.  “You’re way too attached to this angel.  What is going on?  You falling in love with him?”

            Dean didn’t answer.  Benny stared, incredulous.  Then he swore in French.

            “So what if I am?” Dean challenged.

            “He’s an angel, Dean!  Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you make an exception for me and Garth, but Castiel’s a monster same as we are.  He already ran away once!  He runs off again, he could get you and your brother both collared, same as he is!” He frowned at Dean.  “You said he didn’t know about the Enforcers.  Does he even know that?”

            “No, and don’t tell him,” Dean warned.  “We’re trying to get him to trust us.  If he thinks we’ve got an ulterior motive for telling him not to run away, he’ll never trust us again!”

            “You think he’ll trust you if he finds out you didn’t tell him?”

            “That’s our problem, ok, Benny?  Besides, it’s a moot point.  I got him a leash and some stuff to use when we take him out in public, and even Sammy knows not to just let him loose.  We’ll make sure he doesn’t run away again.”

            Benny shook his head.  “It’s a damned good thing you’re keeping him chained up in Bobby’s truck while we do this. You best not ever let him off that chain, and watch him like a hawk!  He runs away, you could end up collared right next to him!  You’re in the same boat if he gets stolen, and you said there’s a couple of assholes already after him?”

            “Yeah.”

            More French, mumbled under Benny’s breath.  “Might be a good idea if Garth and I stick around a bit, help you two out. I’ve had some slaves in my time, know how to handle ‘em.  Seems to me you could use my expertise.  It looks like you’re having a hell of a time with him.”

            “He’s not usually like this,” Dean sighed.  “He’s kind of back to being all pissy and resistive like he was when we first bought him.  That sucks, Benny!  We’d made so much progress with him!  But when he Kentucky fried those demons, once we recovered from the shock, Sammy and I realized how much trouble we were in if anyone found those bodies.  So we ran out and dragged him back.  That, well, that pissed him off pretty good.  He’d already let the sigils on his collar and manacles lock his powers away, and I think he expected us to thank him. Instead, we dragged him back inside and short-chained him to the wall.”

            “You probably should have beaten him.”

            “I’m not beating Cas, Benny!”

            “Fine, fine, but even you admit your angel’s out of control.  Let us help you a bit.  I’ll bet Bobby would stick around too, if you asked him.”

            “I’m betting he’ll stick around even if we don’t ask him,” Dean grumbled.  “He had his ‘You boys are being idjits again’ look.”  He glanced over at his friend and managed a smile.  “Thanks, Benny.”

            “Always glad to help when you’re in over your head, brother.  Which happens more frequently than it should, but hey, what are friends for?”

            With five men working together, the pit didn’t take long to dig.  Soon, the bodies were burning.  Dean glanced casually back at the truck.  Of course Cas hadn’t been content to stay quietly in it. He’d nearly hung himself trying to get out, finally compromising by sitting sideways in the seat with his legs out the open door, frowning at everyone.  “We still clear, Cas?” Dean called.

            Cas took a long look around.  “For now, yes, but don’t forget, demons can move fast,” he warned.  “There’s always a chance they could come up and get between you and the vehicles.”

            “Don’t worry, Castiel!” Garth called cheerfully.  “The vehicles are all warded.  We’ll make sure you’re safe.”

            Cas stared flatly at him.

            Dean kept looking at Bobby, noticing Sammy doing the same.  The old hunter had been acting strangely since they’d arrived at the dump site, avoiding looking at Dean or Sam and instead taking Benny aside for a quick, whispered conversation.  Something was up.  Dean didn’t know what it was, but he was sure he wouldn’t like it.

            “Getting late,” Bobby noted.  “We should think about burying what’s left of these poor saps and moving on, finding a place for the night.”

            That got Cas’s attention.  “All of you?”

            “Sure!” Garth said.  “We’ll get three rooms, hopefully adjacent, and...”

            “Is it possible for everyone to fit into one room?”

            Now everyone was looking at the angel.  “Cas, what’s wrong?” Sam asked.  “I know you haven’t wanted to be alone lately, but you don’t even know Bobby and Benny and Garth.  Why do you want everyone together?”

            “It’s probably not necessary,” Cas amended.  “Not so long as Benny and Garth stay with us.  Bobby should be safe.”

            “Why the hell wouldn’t we be safe?” Benny asked.

            “It doesn’t matter.  The motel room beds are doubles, so it shouldn’t be difficult to sleep two to a bed.”

            “He always this way?” Bobby complained.  “Look, Castiel, I’m glad you’re into the touch-feely closeness, but when we’re on the road, we have our sleeping arrangements.  Five guys in a room ain’t it!  I sleep alone, Benny and Garth usually room together and Sam and Dean stay together.”  Bobby paused, glanced at Dean, and quickly turned back to Cas.  “I think it’s best if I keep you with me tonight.”

            “Why?” Sam and Dean asked in unison.

            Bobby shrugged.  “Just thought we’d finish that conversation we started in the truck.”

            “You can stay with me and Benny?” Garth immediately offered.  “We’d be happy to have you, Castiel!”

            Dean rolled his eyes and chuckled.

            “I’d like that,” Cas said.

            Dean came perilously close to falling into the pit with the burning bodies.

            “That’s a fine idea too,” Bobby agreed.  “But I still want to finish that conversation.”

            “Of course,” Cas replied, nodding solemnly at Bobby.

            “Great!” Garth exclaimed, delighted.  “We’ll have fun, Castiel, and get to know each other!”

            “I’m sure.  Just make certain that one of you keeps his book, and you both keep an eye on him, especially if you don’t have him chained up!” Dean managed.  He was still reeling from the idea that his angel wanted to stay with two virtual strangers instead of him and Sammy.

            “He won’t be going anywhere,” Benny assured.  “I’ll take him from the truck right into the room and chain him straight up. He’s not getting loose until we’re leaving in the morning.  No chance to run away.”

            Castiel only nodded.  Dean couldn’t identify his expression.


	16. Zachariah

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean gets a visitor, and some answers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout-out to a couple of ladies. One is Mungojassie, who's been helping to keep me reasonably sane despite my best efforts. The other is MistyEyes73. If you want to read something utterly mind-blowing and not at all what you'd expect, try her story "How Misha Collins Got His Wings." She's giving me some advice with plot. You have been warned.

            Dean was back on the pier, and once again, he wasn’t alone.  “Well, at least this time you’re not trying to hide,” he groaned.  “Seriously, dude, get out of my head.”

            Zachariah was wearing the same business suit he’d been wearing the last time Dean had seen him at Cas’s correction.  He stood uncomfortably close, even putting his hand on Dean’s shoulder.  Dean quickly shrugged it off, but Zach just smiled.  “I’m not here to hurt you, Dean.  I’m sorry I was overly anxious last time.  I just want to talk.”

            “So pick up the freaking phone or write me a love letter,” Dean growled. “Don’t come creeping in on my dreams, especially not dressed as my angel!”

            “Oh?”  Zach’s eyebrow shot up.  “You’ve grown quite attached to your slave, have you?”

            Dean’s shoulders immediately hunched.  “Don’t call him that.”

            “But that’s precisely what he is,” Zach insisted.  “Castiel is your slave.  You own him.”

            “Legally, yes, I own him, but he’s not my slave.  He’s my friend.  Seriously, Zack, get out of my head!”

            Cas had told him that Zach couldn’t get anything from them unless they let him. Dean had no intention of letting Zach get so much as the time of day from him.  But how the hell did he get this asshole out of his head?  For that matter...  “How the hell did you get in my head in the first place?”

            “Oh, my dear Mr. Winchester, we have been searching for you for a very long time now,” Zack explained cheerfully.

            “That doesn’t make sense,” Dean complained.  “I’ve only owned Cas for a few days!”

            “And it would seem he’s told you nothing at all.”  Zach made tsk sounds and shook his head.  “It’s hardly surprising.  He failed utterly in his mission and now he’s throwing away the one chance he has to redeem himself.”

            Dean looked up.  “Redeem himself?  Ok, what the hell are you, that you can just get into my head like this?”

            Zach laughed.  “Oh, Dean, Dean, isn’t it obvious?  Well, maybe this will help.”

            Dean stared, dumbfounded, at the shadowy wings that spread from Zach’s back. He swallowed hard.  “You’re another angel,” he managed through numb lips. “You son of a bitch!  How the hell could you do that to Castiel?!  You called the Enforcers on him!”

            “I did.  Why wouldn’t I?  I’m a responsible citizen, and he was a runaway slave.”

            “He’s one of your own, and you assholes left him enslaved, beaten and raped for three years, just because he wouldn’t ruin some poor sap’s life?!”

            “Indeed.”  Dean did not care for the way Zach was beaming at him now. “You have no idea the amount of trouble that caused us.  It took a great deal work, setting up another righteous man in his place. Two years, in fact.  Fortunately, he broke fast.  And now everything is falling neatly into place, just as it should. The plan got set back a few years, but now we’re back on track.  I’m confident that we’ll be able to see it through.  There’s only one thing missing.  And one way or another, Castiel will give it to us.”

            Dean put down his fishing rod, got up, and turned to face Zach.  “You listen, and you listen good,” he growled.  “You called Cas out into those woods to try telling him this bullshit, didn’t you?  And when you finally offered to help him like you should have done three years ago?  And he still wouldn’t give in and let you take him? You did the cowardly thing of calling the Enforcers on him!  You watched him get raped and beaten!  You made it happen, you sick fuck!”  Dean’s fists were clenched at his side.  “Well, guess what?  You can come along and ruin every dream I have.  I don’t care!  I’m not giving Cas up!”

            “Giving him up?”  To Dean’s surprise, Zach actually laughed.  “Oh Dean, Dean, we threw Castiel out of Heaven for a reason!  Why would I want that broken, soiled, pitiful excuse for an angel?  No, he had his chance to redeem himself.  Now he’s nothing more than a warm hole.  At least he’s good for something.”

            Dean barely kept himself in check.  “You son of a bitch!”

            “My point is that I have no interest in Castiel,” Zach continued.  The angel was still smiling pleasantly as he looked at Dean.  “At least not enough to bother exerting any real effort to obtain him. His book is another story, of course. A spell book capable of nullifying the effects of angel wards on the bearer is valuable indeed.  Oh, yes!” he went on, seeing Dean’s face.  “Of course I know of Magnus’s book.  Who do you think alerted him to Castiel’s presence in the first place?  No, we couldn’t have that traitor running around loose.  The magician provided a service for us and was rewarded.  Given the chance, I’d gladly take the spell book off of your hands.  But Castiel himself?  Well, he’s made his whore’s bed, now, hasn’t he?”

          This time, Dean couldn’t keep from swinging.  His fist passed through empty air.  He was in a different place now, a beautiful room with fancy furniture and gilded accents.  Paintings hung from the walls.  Dean turned around, confused, and saw Zach standing in the middle of it.  “Welcome to my humble abode!  Do you like it?”

            “It’s nice enough, except for the bastard standing in it,” Dean growled. “Why’d you bring me here?”

            “To let you get acquainted with it.  I’ll bring you here in person soon enough.”  Zach started walking, circling around Dean, seeming to inspect him.

            Dean felt like a piece of meat.  “Ok,” he called, trying to regain his calm.  “We’ve established that you hate Cas.  So it’s his book that you want?”

            “The book is incidental.  An item like that is a treasure, but it’s not my primary purpose either.  Had you agreed to sell Castiel to me, I would have taken the book and simply imprisoned him. But obtaining it is not my mission, Dean.”

            “So what the hell is your mission?”

            Zach stopped in front of him, smiling pleasantly into Dean’s face. “You.”

            Dean blinked, surprised.  “Me?”

            “You,” Zach repeated.  He stepped to Dean’s side and slipped an arm around the hunter’s shoulders, turning him slightly to face the wall.  “What do you see?”

            Dean’s skin crawled where Zach touched him, but he resisted the urge to swing again.  Now that he was finally getting some straight answers, he needed to keep Zach talking. Dean looked where directed.  “A painting.”

            “A painting of?”

            “I don’t know, some angel dude in armor with a set of scales, about to gank some demon guy he’s got pinned?”

            “It’s the Archangel Michael,” Zach explained.  He’d fortunately let go of Dean and was standing to admire the painting with his hands clasped behind his back.  “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

            “It’s ok.  I’m not really an art kind of guy, unless, you know, there’s a naked woman in it.”

            Zach apparently chose to ignore that.  “This painting depicts our archangel’s greatest triumph, when he defeated Lucifer and forced him into the Cage in Hell,” he explained.  “Notice the strength, the power Michael displays?”

            “Yeah, ok, he’s a tough guy, congratulations,” Dean grumbled.  “What’s this got to do with me?”

            But Zach was still looking at the painting.  “Notice what he’s got in his hand, the weapon?”

            “A sword?”

            “Precisely.”  Zach sounded deeply satisfied.  “Michael’s Sword.  His ultimate weapon.  That, Mr. Winchester, is why we want you.”

            Dean frowned at the picture.  “What, you think I have this sword?”

            “No, Dean,” Zach explained patiently.  “You ARE Michael’s Sword.  His greatest weapon against Lucifer.  His one true vessel.”

            Dean froze.  “Um, what? Vessel?  Wait, you mean like Jimmy Novak, or whatever poor sad sack you’re wearing?”  Dean laughed. “Man, did you screw up somewhere! There is no way in Hell I’m going to let an archangel strap me on like a condom, ok?  Tell Michael no thanks.”

            “That is not an option.”  Zach was standing uncomfortably close now.  His nose was inches from Dean’s.  “This is my mission.  I am to bring Michael his Sword.  You will say yes to him, Dean, and accept your destiny.  And Michael will use you to destroy Lucifer.”  He smiled happily.  “You should be thrilled for this opportunity!  All your life, you’ve fought monsters and demons.  Now the greatest monster of all is coming, and you’ll be there on the front lines to stop him!”  The angel slapped Dean’s shoulder.  “Congratulations!  You’ve been chosen!”

            “Whoa, wait, stop!” Dean yelled.  His head was spinning.  “I didn’t agree to anything yet, ok?  Just give me a minute, let me think!”

            “What’s to think about?  You’re a hunter!  It’s your job to protect humanity from Lucifer.  Do you think you could do that as a mere man?”  Zach scoffed.  “You’ve got an incredible future ahead of you now.  As Michael’s vessel, you will be revered and honored...”

            “And what happens to me?” Dean asked.  “Cas said that Jimmy didn’t know much about what was happening to them. What happens to me if Michael takes me as his vessel?”

            “What difference does it make?”

            Dean blinked.  “Um, it makes one hell of a difference to me!”

            “It doesn’t matter.”  Zach was smiling again.  “Just tell me where you are, Dean.”

            “What for?”

            “Why else?  You’re important, and you must be protected!  It’s a dangerous world, but now, you’ve got an angel on your shoulder.  I mean a real angel, not a pathetic collared slave. Dean, tell me where you are, and I’ll come find you.”

            “And then what?”

            “Then, I’ll keep you safe while you do what you have to do.  When the time comes, I’ll bring you here, right here to this room, and keep you here until Michael claims you.”

            “You want to lock me in this room until Michael shoves his hand up my ass and uses me as a meat puppet?!”  Dean scoffed. “Tell Michael I said no.  And I’m saying no to you, too, Zach.  I don’t need you as an angel on my shoulder. I’ve already got one!”

            Zach gave Dean an incredulous look.  Then, to Dean’s surprise, he started laughing.  “Oh, indeed!  After all, Castiel has saved you once before, hasn’t he?  And just look at how well that turned out for him!”

            That made Dean pause.  “What do you mean?”

            “You know, I think it’s best if you ask him yourself,” Zack said.  “He’s the reason we can’t find you, after all.  Ask him why that is.”

            Dean shifted uncertainly.  “I don’t understand.”

            “Ask your angel!”  Zach’s smile was gone now.  His eyes were full of anger as he glared at Dean.  “Ask your precious Castiel what he’s done, and what he refused to do despite being directly ordered!  Ask him,” Zach growled, “ask him what he’s risked for you, what he’s given up!  And then you ask if it was worth it?  Because you know what it meant, Dean, when you avoided your fate in Hell?  It meant that another had to be cast down and broken in your place!  That man’s suffering is on the two of you!”

            “The two of us?!”  Dean sputtered.  “Wait, what do you mean?  Yeah, I found a get out of Hell free card, but we sent a leviathan in my place, not a man! And what’s that got to do with Cas?”

            “Everything!” Zach spat.  “You stupid ape, we have known who you were since before you were born.  You are Michael’s perfect vessel!  You have no idea how much time and energy went into setting things up, arranging events and putting the right people into the path of you and your family to guide you in the direction you needed to go.  It took tremendous effort simply to ensure that your parents conceived you!  After all that hard work, do you really think we’d be foolish enough to just stand idly back and let you escape to Purgatory and destroy all of our plans?”  Zach scoffed.  “Castiel had one simple mission, one task in all of this.  All he had to do was ensure that you met your fate, and then retrieve you at the proper time.  He failed miserably, and now he is the one you want to put your faith in? You have no idea!”  The angel’s demeanor suddenly changed, becoming pleasant once more.  “But by all means, do go and find out!  Ask your so-called ‘guardian angel’ why it is that he turned his back on his mission and chose you over Heaven.  And then do please tell me?  I would very much like to know!”

            Suddenly, Dean gasped and sat bolt upright in bed.  In the other bed, Sammy stirred restlessly.  Dean looked around, recognizing his surroundings.  He groaned and rubbed at his face with his hands.  A dream.  A terrible, confusing dream, but just a dream.  That’s all.  Nothing to worry about.

            Right?

            Dean froze, staring at the wall.  The lights from outside the motel room window gleamed on the metal of the slave ring there.  He stared at it for a long time.  Then he was up, quickly dressing in the darkness.  He moved towards the door, pulling on his boots as he went.

            “Dean?”  Sammy. Apparently, Dean had managed to wake him up.  “What’s wrong?”

            “Nothing.  I don’t know,” Dean corrected.  “I just need to get Cas, ok?  Go back to sleep.”

            “Seriously?”  The light clicked on behind him.  “Dean, what’s...  Dean, wait a minute!  Dean!”

            Dean wasn’t listening.  Leaving Sammy swearing behind him as he tried to get dressed, Dean stormed down to Benny and Garth’s room.

 


	17. Moment of Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean confronts Castiel about the Righteous Man. Bobby steps in.

            “Garth!” Dean yelled, pounding on the door.  “Benny?  Let me in, I need Cas back!”

            Muffled cursing in French came from behind the door.  At least the light was on, meaning, for some reason, Dean’s friends were already awake.  A moment later, Garth was opening the door, blinking at him in surprise.  “Dean?  What is it?”

            “I need Cas.”  Shoving past his surprised friend, Dean marched over to where his angel sat calmly between the two beds.  “Gimme his keys and his book!”

            “Pushing it, cher,” Benny warned.  “You’d best have a good reason to be pounding down the door in the middle of the night!”

            “Sorry, guys.  I just need my angel, ok?”

            Benny frowned at him.  “I’ll unlock him, but how about I hold onto his keys and book for now?  I think you might just be too upset to make smart decisions.”

            “Whatever, just give him to me!”

            Cas had simply watched him with a frown when Benny approached and unlocked his chain from the wall.  His frown grew deeper when Dean took his arm and pulled him to his feet.  “Dean?  What are you doing?"

            “Taking you.  Come on!”

            “Dean?”

            Dean looked towards the quiet, gruff voice and finally realized that Bobby was here, too.  In the middle of the night, he was sitting at the table where he’d clearly been chatting with Benny and Garth.  Dean blinked at him.  “What’s going on?”

            “Good question!”  Now Sammy was in the door.  “What is going on?  Dean coming over here for Cas I kind of get, but what’s everyone doing up in here?”

            Long silence followed the question.  Dean looked at his friends, noticing that none of them would meet his eyes. He shook his head.  “Sammy, find out what these idiots are up to, would you? I need to take Cas.”

            He started towards the door, pulling his angel after him.  But abruptly, he was brought up short.  Dean looked back to see Benny had caught hold of the end of Cas’s chain.  The vampire exchanged a look with Bobby, came over, and gently pulled Cas’s arm out of Dean’s hands.  “Give me the angel, brother,” he advised.  “There’s something Bobby needs to talk about with you.”

            “Wait a minute!”  Now Dean’s hackles were up.  “Someone needs to tell me what’s going on!  Garth?”

            That earned him matching glares from Benny and Bobby, but right now, Dean wanted answers.  He wasn’t above going for the weakest point.  Garth cringed a bit under Dean’s stare.  “We’ve, um, been talking.  With Castiel. Bobby had some questions to ask him.  And Castiel told us some things, Dean, about you and Sammy, and...”

            “And that’s why I need you boys to come and talk to me,” Bobby declared.  The older hunter was up, taking Dean by the arm and moving him towards the door and Sam.  Sam looked every bit as confused as Dean felt.  “Let’s go back to your room, and we’ll talk, alright?”

            “There’s just one thing I gotta know,” Dean said, looking hard at Cas. “Am I the Righteous Man?”

            Silence.  Cas seemed to wilt, his eyes locking on the floor.  He didn’t answer.  But his silence seemed to answer for him.

            Dean’s heart pounded.  “No!  Come on, Cas, tell me no!  Tell me that you didn’t do all this for me!  Not for me!”

            “How’d you find this out?” Bobby asked.

            “Zachariah,” Dean explained.  “He’s an angel too, and, and wait a minute!  You knew, Bobby?  How the hell did you know?”  His eyes moved back to Castiel, who was staring hard at the floor.  “Cas?  You told them?  You told them, but you never told me?!”

            “Castiel?” Sam called, looking back over Dean’s shoulder anxiously.

            “He stays with us,” Benny answered.  The vampire pulled on Cas’s chain, drawing him further back away from Dean.  “I think it’s best all around if the angel stays away from you boys for a while, don’t you think, Dean?”

            “We’ll take care of him, guys!” Garth offered when Dean moved to protest. “Don’t worry.  Just go talk to Bobby.”

            Dean’s instincts were screaming at him to take Cas, insist his angel come with him.  But Benny had Cas’s chain wrapped securely around his meaty hands, keeping Cas on a short lead as though he expected Cas would start pulling on the chain at any second. But the angel wouldn’t meet Dean’s eyes. He just stood there with his arms wrapped around himself and his eyes fixed on the floor.  Benny looked way too serious, and even the eternally-cheerful Garth looked upset.  Now Bobby was all but forcing Dean and Sam out of the room.  Nope.  Nothing about this bode well.

            Bobby brought the two brothers back to their room, sat them down at the table, and closed the door.  He locked and bolted the door, then put the chain on it.  He did a quick check of the windows, making sure they were locked and the blinds drawn, with salt lines in place and a devil’s trap at the door. Then he immediately headed to their fridge.  He produced a couple of beers, which he opened and sat at the table in front of them. Dean and Sam exchanged a glance. “Ok, whatever you’re going to tell us, you’re expecting us to really flip out,” Sam predicted.  “That’s the only reason you’ve ever acted like this.”

            “You boys have got every right to flip out,” Bobby grunted.  “You know I love the two of you like my own.  I’d give damned near anything to protect you, and not just because your dad was my best friend.  In a sense, you two are the sons I never had.  I want you to know that.”

            Oh shit.  This was worse than they thought.  Sam and Dean exchanged an alarmed glance.  “Bobby, are you alright?” Sam asked.

            “I’m fine.  It’s you two idjits I’m worried about.”  His eyes moved to Dean.  “So this Zachariah told you who you are?  And about what they want with you?”

            “Yeah.”  Dean took a drink of his beer.

            Sammy looked from one to another, his face flushed.  “Someone needs to tell me what is going on!”

            “The Righteous Man,” Dean explained.  “The one Cas got thrown out of Heaven because he wouldn’t condemn him to Hell?  That’s me, Sammy!”

            To his surprise, Sammy nodded.  “I already guessed that, Dean.”

            Dean blinked.  “You did?”

            “Of course I did!  I’m not an idiot, Dean!  When you asked Cas that, I put it together pretty quick!  But what I don’t understand is why...”

            “Dean!  Sam!  Help, they’re taking me!”

            Cas’s voice, muffled by the closed door and window, but unmistakably his. Both Sam and Dean immediately jumped up.  But Bobby had positioned himself so he’d be between the two and the door.  He was also surprisingly fast.  Quick as a flash, the older hunter was in front of the door, barring it.  “Let him go, boys,” he warned.  “He’s alright.  No one’s going to hurt him.”

            “Bobby, what are you doing?!” Sam yelled.

            “I’m doing the same thing I always do - what needs doing.”

            Outside, Cas was still crying out for help.  Dean gathered his resolve and pushed Bobby aside, fumbling to open the door. Bobby immediately came back, wrapping his arms around Dean from behind and dragging him away from the door. “Stop it, Dean!”

            “It’s Cas!  Let me go, someone’s taking my angel!”

            “Let Cas go, Dean!  He’s... Sam, stop it!”

            Sam had come to Dean’s aid, dragging Bobby off of his brother.  Dean squirmed free, got the door open, and raced out.

            Dean wasn’t sure what to expect.  He was prepared to see attacking werewolves, demons, maybe even Magnus or, worse, Zachariah.  Instead, he saw Benny and Garth.  Benny had Dean’s angel around the middle, and Garth had Cas’s hands.  The two were forcing Castiel into the back of their car, ignoring his struggles.  Cas brightened when he saw Dean.  “Dean! Please, they’re taking me away!”

            Dean ran towards the car, only to run into an unmoving wall of a vampire.  “What the hell are you doing?!” Dean roared. “Take your hands off of him!”

            “Whoa, easy now, brother,” Benny called. He’d let go of Cas and was holding Dean back with embarrassing ease.  “We’re just taking him with us for a while.”

            “We’ll take good care of your angel, Dean,” Garth offered.  He was still holding a struggling Cas against the car as the angel clung to the doorway to keep from being forced inside.  “I promise!  We’ll be good owners.  We’ll never beat him or hurt him...”

            “Owners?!  He’s not for sale!”

            Benny shot him a look, and Garth winced.  “Well...  It’s just that we need to get him away from you and Sam, Dean.  I mean, it doesn’t have to be permanent, right guys?”

            “What the hell are you doing?!” Sam yelled, coming up to join them.  “You’re not just taking our angel!”

            “I’m afraid that’s exactly what we’re doing,” Benny said.  The big vampire was grim.  “Bobby can explain why.  But the angel comes with us.”

            “No, I don’t want to come with you!” Cas yelled.  “Let me go!  I need to stay with Sam and Dean!”

            “I’m sorry, guys.”  Garth looked miserable.  “It really is for the best, though.  Talk to Bobby, he’ll help you understand.”

            “I fully intend to talk to Bobby!” Sam yelled.  “But not until you let Cas out of that car!”

            Garth’s face fell.  “I can’t do that, Sam.  I’m sorry.  Now come on, Castiel, stop squirming!”

            “No!  Don’t take me away!”

            “Just get him in the car, Garth,” Bobby called.  He’d come up, putting a hand on Sam's and Dean’s shoulders.

            Dean shook the hand off.  “Don’t even think about it, Garth!  You’re not taking Cas!  Let him out!”

            Bobby sighed.  “Dean?”

            “No!  Let him out!”

            Benny had an odd look on his face.  “No way to convince you?”

            “None,” Dean declared.  “You want us to talk, we’ll talk, but not until you give us back our angel.”

            “I’m with Dean,” Sam growled.  “I want answers, and no one is taking Castiel away from us until I get them!”

            Benny shrugged.  “Alright, then, I guess we don’t have a choice.”

            It took a moment for Dean to catch on.  Unfortunately, it was a moment too late.  The big vampire’s powerful right connected solidly with his jaw.  Stars flashed, and then everything went grey. Dean was vaguely aware of shouting, the sound of another blow.  Another body fell, bumping into his own.  Somewhere Cas was desperately calling him.  Through the haze, Dean looked up and saw Benny climbing into the back of the car, dragging Castiel into the back seat with him.  From the ground, he could see the individual sigils on Cas’s collar and manacles flash as they prevented him from fighting.  Each time they flashed, Cas went limp for a moment, making it even easier for Benny to drag him in.  Now he was in the car, Garth shutting the door and running around to the driver’s seat.  Cas’s eyes met Dean’s through the window, wide and frightened, their blue depths pleading with him for help.

            The car started.  They were taking Cas away.  No.  Dean needed to get up, needed to protect his angel. But by the time the fog cleared enough for him to get up, all Dean could see was the tail lights of Garth and Benny’s retreating car.  “No!  Cas!”

            “Dean?”  Bobby was here, what was he doing, he was crouched down in front of Dean, between Dean and the car taking his angel away.  “I need you to stop.”

            “What are you doing, Bobby?” Dean groaned.  “Why did you help them take Cas?  Why?!  What are you doing?!”

            “Protecting you the only way I know how.”  The old hunter’s voice was gentle as he looked fondly down at Dean.  “The angel told us some things, things we need to discuss.  But until we come up with a plan, I’m sorry.  We need to make damned sure no angel, not even one on a chain, knows where you are.”

            Dean got to his feet.  He let Bobby help him up, and then shrugged the hands off.  “What are you going to do?”

            “Right now, I’m going to drag your brother’s overgrown ass back inside. Then once he comes back around, we’re all going to talk.  Now come on, help me.”


	18. Broken Seals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bobby explains his reasons for having Benny and Garth take Cas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I missed my usual update. Had a little incident and ended up in the hospital for a couple of days, got out yesterday. All's well. Enjoy the chapter!

            “I get that you’re both pretty pissed,” Bobby began.  “I don’t blame you.  You, especially, Dean, are obviously real attached to that angel, and that’s the problem.”

            Neither Sam nor Dean spoke.  The two brothers sat at the table, sipping at the slightly-warm beer Bobby had given them earlier.  Dean felt somehow violated.  He knew that he could trust Benny and Garth, that his friends would never hurt Cas.  But the fact that it had been his friends who had taken his angel away was proving a hard pill to swallow.

            Sammy apparently felt the same way.  “Why?” he was asking.  “Why did you have them take Cas?  And why was Garth talking like the arrangement was permanent, or at least long-term?”

            “To explain that one, I’m going to have to go back a bit,” Bobby said.  “First off, have you two boys noticed anything weird lately?  Monsters acting off, that sort of thing?”

            “Actually, yes,” Sam agreed.  “We just finished a werewolf hunt, and it looked like they were about to flee from something.”

            “Then the demons attacked the very next morning,” Dean recalled.

            Bobby nodded.  “Demons especially have been real active lately, but it’s not just them. We’ve got monsters no one’s seen in decades showing up.  Monsters that are typically only found in certain parts of the world appearing way outside their usual hunting zones.  And Benny and Garth are hardly the only monsters working together that typically fight each other.  Even those two idjits are a sign of something going down.  I’ve been tracking portents and omens damned near everywhere. Between that, and what other hunters have been reporting, it’s clear that something’s coming.  Something big.”

            Bobby reached into his pack and pulled out a battered laptop.  “You boys familiar with the sixty-six seals?”

            “Sounds vaguely familiar?” Sam offered.

            “It has to do with an old legend. Apparently, there’s a cage in Hell, where Lucifer himself has been bound for millennia.  It’s locked with sixty-six seals, and if they’re all broken, then Lucifer walks free.  Except for the first and the last, they can be broken in pretty much any order, and there’s hundreds of seals to choose from.  For example?”  He turned the laptop around and pushed it towards the brothers.

            “’Mass hysteria sweeps town as citizens claim dead rising?’” Sam read.  His eyes flicked rapidly as he read.  “Sounds like a haunting.”

            “That’s what the hunters who went out there thought. But there’s a twist.”  Bobby pulled out a large book.  “The whole thing started when hunters turned up dead. Come to find out, the ghosts being raised are the victims that those hunters couldn’t save.  And they all had a mark.”  He opened the book to a marked page, turned it, and tapped on a symbol. “This is the symbol of the witnesses. It’s one of those seals.  And there’s others.  Rufus told me about ten species going extinct in Key West, a fishing crew of fifteen going blind in Alaska, and a teacher in New York killing sixty-six students, all in the same day.  Then Garth and Benny saved another seal when they stopped a couple of witches from raising Samhain this past Halloween.  But we are talking around six-hundred seals to choose from, boys. It’s a losing battle to try to protect them all.  Once that first seal broke, there wasn’t much to be done besides damage control while we wait for number sixty-six.”

            “But you said the first and last seal are different?” Sam asked.  “What about that last seal?  How do we keep it from breaking?”

            “Never mind that for now,” Dean growled. “Bobby, all this has been going on, and no one thought to tell us?  You don’t think Sammy and I might have been able to help somewhere along the way?  No one is better than we are at ganking demons! If they’re out to free Lucifer? Then why the hell are we just learning about all this now?!”

            “Because you’re both asking the same question.  You just don’t know it.”  Bobby flipped pages.  “The last seal can only be broken by the first demon.  Your old pal, Lilith.  She’s out, back on the Earth and right back to her old ways.  Near as we can tell, she’s just as bad or worse than she was before. That’s why I didn’t tell you boys.”

            “Why the hell not?!” Dean yelled.  “We’ve faced that white-eyed bitch before, and we know her better than anyone!  Now you’re telling us that she can break that last seal and free Lucifer?!  Bobby, what are you doing?!  You’ve had us chasing black-eyed bastards and shooting werewolves when there was something way bigger going down!  Why, Bobby?  We’re the perfect hunters for this job, so why leave us in the dark?”

            “Because Garth figured it out,” Bobby sighed.  He suddenly looked far older than his years. “The last seal isn’t the one that worries me most right now when it comes to you two.  It’s the first.”

            “The first?”

            Once more, Bobby flipped pages.  “This isn’t going to be easy to hear, especially for you, Dean.  But it’s why we’ve kept the two of you out of this.  Because the first seal was broken when a Righteous Man shed blood in Hell."

            Dean froze.  Next to him, Sammy gasped.

            “Now you’re starting to understand,” Bobby said. “Boys, that angel of yours is in this up to his holy eyebrows.”

            “Because he saved me,” Dean whispered.  “I was supposed to break that first seal!”

            “But Cas stopped it!” Sam pointed out, glancing at Dean.  “He wouldn’t let the Righteous Man go to Hell.  That’s why he was punished, but that doesn’t make sense!  If the Righteous Man shedding blood in Hell breaks the first seal to set Lucifer free, then wouldn’t the angels want to keep that from happening?”

            “And that’s why we needed to talk to Castiel,” Bobby explained.  “We wanted him to explain that one.  And he did. Boys, the angels want it to happen! They want Lucifer out of Hell, because they want Michael to fight him.  A fight like that would pretty much destroy the world, and that’s exactly what they want.  They want a clean slate, reset the whole kit and kaboodle back to factory settings, wipe out most of humanity and start again.  And that’s why Cas was given his mission.  He was supposed to make sure the Righteous Man went to Hell and spilled that blood.  Then he was supposed to lead an attack, lay siege to Hell and bring him back out again once that first seal was broken.”

            “Except Cas didn’t do it,” Dean said quietly. “He was supposed to make sure it happened, but he didn’t.  And that’s why I was able to hide in Purgatory instead of going to Hell and letting them break me.  But they’re still after me, the angels.  Because I’m Michael’s sword!”

            Dean explained what Zachariah had told him. When he finished, Bobby nodded.  “Cas wouldn’t tell us exactly why, but yeah. The angels definitely want you, Dean.” Bobby sighed wearily.  “We didn’t know that, though.  We figured out seals were being broken, but we didn’t make the connection with you until you told us out about Cas, what he’d done to get himself collared.  Dean was intended to break that first seal.  When it didn’t happen, they must have just found someone else.  And all the shitstorm we’ve been seeing since then, this huge spike in supernatural activity?  It’s all a direct result of angels and demons working together towards a common goal.  They’re gearing up for the apocalypse, boys.  They both want that big showdown.  Both sides are getting their fighters ready for the pit.  And near as we can tell, there’s only one or two seals left before the final one.”

            “The one that only Lilith can break.”  Sam’s jaw was set as he looked through Bobby’s book. “Bobby, you needed to tell us this!”

            “You boys need to take a knee on this one,” Bobby countered.

            “That’s crazy!” Dean spat.  “Sammy and I are the best qualified to take Lilith down.  Maybe we still don’t have a way to kill her, but we locked her up once before.  We can do it again, especially if you give us back our angel to help us!”

            “That angel is the last thing you need to have anywhere near you!  Dean, angels are a part of all this!  What part of ‘angels working with demons’ don’t you get?”

            “But Cas saved Dean!” Sam reminded.

            “Yeah, and went through three years of Hell as a collared slave because of it,” Dean added.  “All to protect me!  Don’t you think he deserves a little leeway for that?  I still don’t understand why you had Benny and Garth take him away!”

            “You want to know why?”  Bobby was back in his bag, this time producing a large piece of black plastic film.  He slapped it on the table in front of the brothers.  “That’s why!  It’s my latest chest x-ray, taken to check for broken ribs after a run-in with a rugaru. It shocked the hell out of the doctors, but they weren’t nearly as floored as I was.”

            Dean picked up the x-ray film and held it up to the light.  His eyes widened at the marks of runes that covered the bones.  “What the hell?”

            “Those look a bit like some of the runes on Cas’s collar and manacles,” Sam pointed out.  “These are on your ribs?”

            “And don’t ask me how they got there, because I have no idea!  Or at least I didn’t, until recently.”  He gestured towards the film.  “I’ve been all over, trying to find out what the hell’s been carved into me, and all I could find out is that they’re Enochian sigils.  So you’re probably right, Sam.  I’m betting some of those symbols are on your angel’s collar, because that same angel is the one who did it!  I showed Castiel that film last night, and he admitted it.  He said you two boys have the same marks on your ribs. It was the last thing he did before he abandoned his mission and took off.  He claims the marks hide us from Heaven’s eyes, so the angels can’t find us. And he says it’s the only reason the angels didn’t just send another angel after you to make sure you went to Hell anyway, Dean.  Because of these runes, the angels can’t find you.”

            “He’s right,” Dean said.  Staring at his folded hands, Dean told Bobby and Sam about his dream.

            “So that’s it,” Bobby said quietly.  “Makes sense, I suppose.”

            “What does?”

            “That you’d be the intended vessel for Michael,” Bobby told him.  “Because that’s the other thing we figured out.  All this mess started in the first place when Azazel killed your mom and fed his blood to Sam.  You’re part of this too, Sam!  Because your family wasn’t just manipulated to produce Dean.  Apparently, only a certain few people can be vessels for angels. It’s a genetic thing, passed to the two of you from your father.  But a human vessel capable of holding an archangel is even rarer.  You two were literally bred for it!”

            “So if Dean is supposed to be Michael’s vessel,” Sam asked slowly, “then who am I supposedly destined for?”

            Bobby suddenly looked years older.  “Lucifer,” he said.  “You were intended to be Lucifer’s perfect vessel.  That’s why Azazel came after you when you were a baby, Sammy.  He fed you his blood, altered you.  But that’s only the beginning.  You remember Ruby?”

            Sam went still.

            “Don’t even say that name,” Dean growled.  “She was manipulating Sammy, getting him to drink demon blood to get stronger!”

            “And how did that happen?” Bobby asked, looking hard at Sam.  “What was she telling you to get you to do that?”

            Dean bristled, but Bobby held up a hand to him, focusing on Sam.

            “She was on the run, killing other demons,” Sam recalled.  He seemed to have shrunk in on himself.  “She was outcast, and came to me because she needed help against her own kind in general, Lilith in particular.  She’d worked with Azazel and knew about me, knew that he’d fed me his blood so I’d get psychic powers.  And she knew how to make me stronger.”  He shook his head, disgusted.  “Looking back, I feel so stupid, but her story made so much sense!  And it worked.  She’d give me her blood and I’d be stronger.  Lilith was so powerful.  I felt helpless, especially after what Dean did.  He took this great risk, and all I did was stand around and let him take all the risk!  While he was in Purgatory, I blew her off a bit because I had a purpose then.  We were so focused on trying to get Dean back. But once he was back, and we were really fighting against Lilith?  I didn’t want Dean to have to be the one to take all the risk anymore!  I just wanted to get strong, strong enough to be able to fight her!”

            “You were always strong enough to fight her,” Dean called.

            “We know that,” Bobby agreed.  “But Sam, I want you to think for a moment.  What would have happened if Dean really had been dragged to Hell, and you’d been left alone?  What if Dean hadn’t been there to get through that thick skull of yours that Ruby didn’t have your best interests in mind?  After you killed her, you got pretty damned sick.  Dean and I both agreed it almost looked like you were going through withdrawal.  If she’d worked that bullshit on you without Dean there, especially if you really were getting addicted to demon blood?  Just how far do you think you would have gone?”

            Sam’s face grew pale.  “As far as I could go,” he admitted.  “I would have kept going until I was strong enough to face Lilith.”

            “And you would have killed her,” Bobby declared.

            “Why is that a bad thing?” Sam challenged.  “I mean, sure, drinking the demon blood, I can’t believe I ever did that!  I’m disgusted that I let myself get manipulated that much, but if I’d killed Lilith then, she never could have broken that last seal, and we wouldn’t have this problem now!”

            “And that’s where you’re wrong,” Bobby sighed.  “It’s the one piece of this puzzle we never would have figured out until too late.  And ironically, we have Magnus to thank for it.  Magnus’s collection contains a book about those seals, and it’s got information on Lilith that we never knew, never would have known thanks to that bastard hoarding his knowledge.  Your angel read through it while Magnus owned him and learned the truth.  All this time, we’d been thinking that only Lilith could break the seal because that’s what all the lore we had available told us. But that’s not quite right. Lilith can break the final seal because she IS the final seal!  If you’d gone through with what Ruby wanted, Sammy?  If you’d gotten powerful enough on demon blood to kill Lilith?  You would have broken that last seal, and been right there at ground zero when Lucifer came out of that Cage.  His perfect vessel, pre-loaded with demon blood, ready and waiting for him to take!”  Bobby pounded his fist on the table, making both Winchesters jump.  “It was a set-up, Sammy!  This whole damned thing was nothing more than one big set-up!  It started before you were born and kept right on going through to now, when it’s still going on.  And that angel of yours?  He’s right smack dab in the middle of it!”

            “But he helped us!” Dean countered.

            “So did Ruby,” Sam whispered.

            Bobby pointed at Sam.  “Now you’re getting it!”

            “Come on!” Dean yelled.  “Cas is an angel!”

            “But we know that the angels are working are working with demons,” Bobby reminded.  “That angel could be manipulating you, Dean, just like that demon did with Sammy.”

            “What?!”  Dean shook his head.  “No way! Cas is suffering, Bobby!  You just have to look at him to see that!  And the way Zach just dismissed him?”

            “Dean, Ruby let herself be tortured,” Sam reminded.  “She let herself be hunted by her own kind, because she was loyal to her mission from Lucifer.”

            “But Cas is...!”

            “I slept with her,” Sam admitted.  He was staring hard at the table now, avoiding the incredulous looks of the other two.  “She was making me strong, telling me exactly what I needed to hear, building me up.  I think I fell a little in love with her.  That’s why it was so hard for you to convince me, Dean, why I had such a hard time killing her!  She knew exactly what to say and do to manipulate me, Dean.”

            “Cas is not manipulating me!” Dean insisted.

            “But you are falling in love with him,” Sammy countered.

            It was Dean’s turn to look down and avoid eye contact.

            Sam sighed.  “I don’t want to believe it either, Dean.  I want to believe that Cas is exactly what he says he is.  But Bobby’s right.  At that auction, we were both trying hard not to look at any of the slaves. The only reason I noticed Cas was because he picked up my paddle and gave it back to me.  Otherwise, I never would have paid any attention to him, never would have bid on him.  Don’t you think that’s some kind of coincidence, that my paddle fell out of my pocket right where he could reach it?”

            “Yes!” Dean insisted.  “Or maybe there’s another option?  I mean, where’s God in all this, huh?  If there’s angels and demons and the devil, then where’s God?  Maybe, after all this bullshit we’ve been through, the big guy’s finally giving us a break!  I don’t know.  All I know is that I believe in Castiel!  He’s not out to hurt us or manipulate us.  He’s trying to protect us!  I may not believe anything else, but I believe that!”

            “Calm down, Dean,” Bobby sighed.  “Now maybe it was a coincidence that you boys bought him. Maybe it was just another set-up. And who knows, maybe it’s a sign of an even greater hand at work here, which is something I can only hope.  But no matter how it happened, you idjits ended up owning the very same angel that was supposed to make sure the last domino fell to break that first seal.  For reasons of his own, Castiel chose not to go through with it.  We can all be grateful for that.”

            “Then give him back!” Dean yelled.  “Bobby, what are you doing, taking Cas away now? You just said he’s the reason that none of this shit happened!”

            “Because I don’t trust coincidence,” Bobby declared. “And if there’s another force at play, I’m not seeing it.  What I do see is yet another supernatural creature like Ruby, set conveniently in your path at just the right time, all geared up to ‘help’ you.  That damned demon’s so-called ‘help’ would have resulted in Lucifer claiming Sammy!  And I’m sorry, boys, but I can’t take the chance that this angel’s ‘help’ won’t end up with Michael possessing Dean.  I don’t trust Castiel because I can’t afford to!  If that last seal breaks, Lucifer’s free to come after Sammy, Michael will still be after Dean, and the two of them will start the apocalypse!  This isn’t a game, boys!  Literally the entire world is at risk here.  That is not something I can take lightly, not even for the two of you. So I’m sorry.  Unless or until things change?  I gave Benny and Garth direct orders to keep that angel somewhere far away from you boys.  And that’s how things are going to stay.”


	19. Separate Ways

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Separation isn't easy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since this story has over 140 subscribers right now, I thought I should try and get this chapter up before I go. No updates coming over the weekend. I'm going camping with my brother! Cell reception out there is spotty on a good day. The weather coming up is not going to be good. So I probably won't be able to respond to comments right away. Those who want to murder me, and I am looking at you MJ, please take a number and wait for it to be called. Have a great weekend!

            Dean was staring at a bottle.  Exhaustion weighed on his body and mind, but he couldn’t sleep.  Every time he closed his eyes, Zachariah was there, relentless, insisting Dean tell him where he was, twisting Dean’s mind, filling his head with doubt until he literally woke up screaming.  Drinking didn’t help.  Neither did drugs.  In fact, both made Dean weaker, resulting in Zach coming dangerously close to getting information out of Dean.  Twice now he and Sammy had been forced to pack up and move in a hurry, probably only a few steps ahead of Zach.  The angel’s growing frustration was Dean’s only balm.

            Bobby had stayed with them.  The older hunter’s presence was as infuriating as it was comforting.  On multiple occasions now, Dean had stumbled over Bobby talking quietly on his phone and caught just enough of his conversation to know he was talking to Benny or Garth.  Bobby was keeping tabs on Cas.  He knew exactly where Dean’s angel was.  Dean knew why Bobby was keeping Cas away from him.  He understood his friend’s logic, his reasons, and his caution.  Had their positions been reversed, Dean was certain he would have done the same thing.  But that didn’t change anything now.

            It irritated Dean that everyone apparently guessed that he was falling for his angel, but no one knew the truth.  Dean had long passed that stage.  He’d never felt for anyone else what he felt for Castiel. The separation, combined with the lack of restful sleep, was starting to wear on Dean.  He snapped at everyone.  He spent long hours alone, in his room or driving aimlessly around in his baby.  He threw himself into hunts, grateful for the distraction, but afterwards, he withdrew from everyone around him.

            They hunted.  They researched.  They fought monsters and avoided demons.  Now that he could see the pattern, it was clear that the demons were searching for them. Other hunters were reporting back that demons were asking about them, seeking Sammy even as Zach and the angels relentlessly pursued Dean.  As time went by, there were several close calls.  Twice Bobby had rushed them to a safehouse, hiding them in a cellar in one place and an attic in another, desperate to keep the demons from finding them. At one point he’d even taken them back and locked them both in his panic room for three days.  But they were no closer to stopping Lilith, no closer to preventing the apocalypse.

            “We can’t run and hide forever,” Dean grumbled after Bobby finally let them out of the panic room.

            “I know,” Bobby grunted.  “That’s what worries me.”

            Yet despite everything, despite all the danger they faced, Dean’s thoughts returned again and again to Castiel.  He remembered how Cas tilted his head back and smiled when he’d felt the sun on his face that first time.  How had he ever thought he could sell Cas to Magnus? Dean felt sick at the memory of Magnus touching Cas, rubbing his hands over Cas’s body and kissing him.  The memory of how Cas struggled made him want to scream.  Why hadn’t he pulled out his gun right there and put a bullet in Magnus?  Now the magician was out there, still seeking the lovely angel.  Already, Dean had learned, Magnus had been making inquiries, spreading money around searching for Cas. The former Man of Letters had a lot of influence, a lot of power, and a lot of money.  He was using all three to try to reclaim Cas.  He was casting a wide net, drawing it closer and closer around Benny and Garth.  Magnus had already captured the two before.  That was how this whole thing had started, with Magnus holding Dean’s friends prisoner until he and Sam agreed to give up Athena’s shield. Magnus was more than capable of controlling the vampire and werewolf.  If he came after Cas, what could Benny and Garth do?  Magnus could incapacitate them both, take Cas, and Dean might never see his angel again!

            No, Dean would see his angel, he vowed.  If Magnus ever touched Cas, Dean would make sure he lived just long enough to regret it.

            “Dean?”

            Dean looked up and saw Bobby and Sam looking down at him.  The concern in their eyes caused a flash of guilt moments before he buried it again. “Yeah?”

            “We wanted to try something,” Bobby began. “Might just keep Zachariah out of your head, let you get some rest.”

            “Don’t even try to say you’re fine, Dean,” Sam called as Dean opened his mouth to say he was fine.  “You’re exhausted, and it’s showing.  You can’t keep going on like this.  Your reflexes and reaction times are starting to suffer in the field.  And frankly, you’re impossible to live with.”

            “Fine,” Dean snapped.  “What do you want to do?”

            Bobby had something in his hands, a strip of leather. “Here.  Gimme your arm.”

            Dean offered his right arm, watching with a frown as Bobby fastened the piece of leather around his wrist.  “What’s this supposed to do besides look stupid?”

            “It’s based off of the sigils on Castiel’s restraints,” Bobby told him.  “If Castiel could use them to kick Zachariah out of your head, then maybe we can use them to keep him from getting there in the first place.”

            Dean bristled.  “Or, you could just give me my angel back!  You’re putting this on me, based off of the sigils on his restraints, when you could just give Cas back and have the real thing?  Damn it, Bobby, I want my angel back!”

            “I know, Dean,” Bobby said patiently.  “And I told you why I can’t do that.  I still don’t know that I can trust him.”

            “So what’s he got to do?” Dean asked.  “What can Cas do to earn your trust?”

            “He’s already doing it,” Bobby told him. “Dean, you’ve believed in me so far. I need you to keep believing in me, alright?”

            Dean looked up and saw the same confusion in his brother’s face as he felt.  But then he looked at Bobby, saw the sincerity there, and reluctantly nodded.

            It didn’t stop him from longing for Cas that night when he went to bed.  It was a bit sickening, Dean thought.  Looking at the symbols Bobby had carefully carved into the leather band and knowing that the same symbols were on Cas’s restraints, Dean somehow felt a little closer to his angel.  How odd, to feel a connection to Castiel through the very devices that kept him a powerless slave.  But was it somehow worse that he could trace the symbols and remember the way the angel smiled?  How the skin around his eyes crinkled when he laughed?  How he felt in Dean’s arms, that sturdy, solid body pressing up tight against him in the darkness?  Dean could close his eyes and feel the silky hair in his fingers.He could remember how Cas sounded, that deep rough voice.  He wanted to know how Cas tasted.

            What would it be like to just pull the angel close and kiss him?  Dean would never force him.  He’d do whatever it took to make sure Cas consented to it, but then?  To be able to show Cas that kissing could be good?  Cas would probably be afraid.  He’d certainly be shy.  Dean would be gentle.  He’d kiss Cas lightly first, his arms loosely around the angel.  Cas would be aware that he could pull away at any time. Dean would let him go.  They’d go at the angel’s pace.  He’d tell Cas it was alright.  He’d ask Cas if he needed to stop.  But if Cas said no?  Then he could pull Cas closer, lean into the kiss.  Cas would stiffen a bit at first, alarmed.  Dean would pause a moment, tell him it’s ok.  He’d loosen his arms, give Cas the chance to run.  But Cas wouldn’t run.  Cas’s arms would go around Dean.  It would be slow, tentative.  Then he’d lean forward, wanting more.  Dean would give him more.  He’d kiss Cas again and again, waiting for the angel to let him in.  Then it would happen.  Cas’s lips would part and Dean’s tongue would probe his mouth.  He’d have to be careful here.  Cas would gasp.  His head would go back, but his arms would tighten around Dean.  It would be as though Cas wanted to run and pull Dean in at the same time.  And that’s when Dean would say it.  “I love you, Cas.  I love you, and I want to show you how much I love you.”  Cas would grow still, his breath warm as those beautiful blue eyes went wide.  And Dean would kiss him again.

            Cas would let himself be kissed.  He’d open his mouth again, and this time he’d let Dean taste him.  He’d make a little sound when Dean drew out his breath, but his arms would tighten around Dean.  Cas would melt against him, warm and pliant in Dean’s arms as Dean lifted him, laid him down...

            Heat flooded through him.  Dean bit his own lip to keep back the moan that threatened to spill at the images in his mind.  God, he missed Cas.  Dean threw back his blanket and climbed awkwardly out of bed.  He peeked outside.  Good.  Sam and Bobby were asleep.  There was no one to notice Dean trying to walk to the bathroom with an obvious erection. He went in and tended to business. Even with a towel shoved into his mouth for him to bite down, he couldn’t keep himself from moaning the angel’s name as he climaxed.  Well, who cared?  He quickly cleaned up, washed, and returned to bed.

            For the first time since he’d lost his angel, Dean’s sleep was undisturbed.

***

            “What have you done?”

            Castiel shifted, frowning at Zachariah’s voice over angel radio.  He didn’t respond.

            “Where is the Righteous Man, Castiel?  Why can’t I find his sleeping mind?”

            Now Castiel relaxed.  It was working.  Dean’s mind would be at peace now, protected by the very Enochian sigils that imprisoned Castiel. Good.

            “You can’t hide him forever,” Zachariah warned. “We will never stop looking.  We will find him, and we’ll find you!”

            Castiel ignored him.

            “Something on your mind, angel?”

            Castiel turned and regarded the vampire.  Benny was busy with his carving, creating more of the leather bracelets.  “It worked,” he reported.  “Dean’s mind is hidden now.  Zachariah is quite displeased.”

            “Good.”  Benny kept carving.

            Castiel stayed as he was.  He was sitting on the floor of the trailer the two hunters used as a mobile base of operations, his chain attached to the ring securely bolted to the floor.  He had little choice.  He’d only been given four feet of chain.  Punishment for his latest escape attempt.  Of course, there was no way he could convince the vampire that he hadn’t been trying to escape.  Benny was determined to keep control of Castiel.  He quickly punished him for any infarction.  When he saw Castiel leaning out the opened window of the trailer, he’d immediately assumed the worst.  Castiel didn’t try to explain that he’d only wanted to listen to the birds courting in the nearby tree.  He’d simply dragged Castiel back, chained him tightly, and reattached the short chain that bound hiswrists.  How long Benny would keep him like this was anyone’s guess.

            “You do realize that we could have helped Dean weeks ago if we’d just listened to Cas?” Garth called.

            Castiel winced even as he saw Benny look up and glower at his partner.  “It’s Dean!” Benny barked.  “The reason we have this angel in the first place is because we can’t trust him with Dean. There was no way in hell I was going to put anything on my friend until I verified it did what the angel said it did!”

            That was the clearest sign of the way Castiel was regarded by the two monsters.  Garth always referred to him by his name or Cas.  Benny rarely did.  To the vampire, Castiel was almost always angel or the angel.  The difference was night and day.  Garth tried to be friendly with Castiel.  He frequently drew him into conversation, taught him to play cards, took him out for walks and pushed hard to take him on hunts. Benny usually mostly ignored Castiel. He was content to leave Castiel chained in the trailer for days at a time.  But there were a couple of traits the two hunters shared.  First, it was clear to Castiel from early on that both were steadfast in their loyalty to Dean.  Benny seemed to like Sam and respect Bobby, while Garth liked and respected all three.  But it was Dean that really commanded their loyalty, especially Benny.  Second, both monsters were determined not to give in to their natures.  They killed only animals, with visits to select blood banks or butchers to supply the two of them with the bags of blood or containers of hearts that they needed to stay alive.  Third, the two were fiercely loyal to each other, supporting each other at every turn. And finally, both were determined not to let Castiel escape.

            Castiel had tried to escape from the moment he’d been taken.  He’d fought and struggled the entire time he’d been in their car after they’d stolen him away from Sam and Dean.  When they’d finally stopped, he’d strained his binding sigils until he’d lost consciousness in his attempts to break free.  That had resulted only in waking up chained to the floor of their trailer. After that, he’d tried to use his wits to escape.  He’d managed to pickpocket his key from Garth and unlocked his chains.  He’d gotten hold of a knife and used it to secretly cut through the leather leash to the point he could break it and run when Garth took him for a walk.  He’d managed to get his hands on a wrench and tried to remove the ring from the floor. He’d pickpocketed his key from Benny. When a group of vampires tracked them down and attacked, Castiel had assisted in defending them.  Naturally, Benny had locked his powers down again immediately once the danger was over, but Garth had left him unchained as a reward.  Castiel had run out the door as soon as the two had their backs turned.

            Every time, the hunters had tracked him down and dragged him back.  The furthest he’d managed was half a mile away. After the vampire incident, he’d snatched the car keys, hoping to steal their car and make his way back to Sam and Dean, but the two had been too fast.  Castiel was starting to lose hope.  Even if he’d managed to get out of range of his spellbook, with his powers bound, he wasn’t able to fool the preternatural senses of a vampire and a werewolf.  They’d find him, drag him back, and chain him up tightly once more.  Every time he tried to escape, Garth would shake his head and talk about how disappointed he was.  Benny would curse at him in French and tell him that if it wasn’t for Dean being in love with him, Benny would beat him black and blue.  And both of them would give him vague warnings.  He’d be caught, and somehow that would result in trouble for Sam and Dean.  Castiel didn’t believe a word of it.  He knew that Sam and Dean wanted him.  They’d told him so.  Sam and Dean wanted to keep him.  They were out there, somewhere, searching for him.  And Benny himself had said that Dean was in love with him.  Castiel didn’t know what to think about that.  He knew he was strongly drawn to Dean’s soul, but he had no frame of reference for love.  Did he love Dean?  Would he know if he did?  And what did it mean?  What did it matter?  Castiel was an angel of the Lord, and a slave.  Either condition would mean falling in love wasn’t something he could do. Combined meant no chance at all.

            Love or not, Castiel was starting to lose hope. When he’d first been taken, he’d watched for his chance to escape, but mostly he’d waited.  Sam and Dean would come for him.  They’d promised.  All he had to do was wait.  But as the days dragged on and every chance he took to try to escape failed, Castiel began to lose hope.  He still didn’t understand why he’d been taken away.  It made no sense when both Benny and Garth were so loyal to Dean. But it was clear they believed it was not in Dean’s best interest to let him go.  Castiel would have to prove himself.  He’d have to show Benny and Garth that he too only wanted to help Sam and Dean escape their destinies.  But any time he leaned forward, the shortened chain pulling on his collar reminded he still had a long way to go.  All he’d wanted to do was listen to the birds sing.  But no one believed him.  What could he do?  How could he ever prove himself?  If only Sam and Dean would come!

***

            The first rays of the sun just before dawn made Benny wince as he stepped away from the trailer, phone in hand.  A tap of his finger brought up the number.  He raised the phone to his ear, listening to it ring. It was answered on the third ring. “Mr. Magnus?” Benny said.  “It’s Benny Lafitte.”

            A slight pause before the magician spoke betrayed his surprise.  “Ah, the vampire!  I have to say, I’m surprised to hear from you.”

            “Yeah, well, I wouldn’t be calling you if I didn’t think I had to,” Benny growled.  The memory of how Magnus had captured him and held him prisoner still rankled.  “You know what’s going on with Dean Winchester?”

            “Michael’s sword, you mean?”  Magnus chuckled.  “He and his brother have become quite popular as of late!”

            “Well, that answers that, I suppose.”  Benny closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and plunged ahead.  “You’re sitting on the greatest collection of supernatural lore on the planet.  If anyone’s got a way to help, you’re it. So tell me.  Can you help Dean?”

            The magician hummed over the phone.  “I might be able to assist, but I’m not sure why I’d ever want to?  I’ve made an arrangement that’s very much to my liking.  Tell me why I should break it?”

            “Because I’ve got a better arrangement for you.”

            “Is that so?”  Now the magician sounded interested.  “And what is it that you think you can offer me?”

            “How about your angel slave?”

            Benny’s sharp ears picked up the gasp from Magnus’s end of the phone.  When the magician spoke, his voice was steady, but Benny was grinning.  “You have my attention.”

            “Here’s how this is going to work.  You meet me in a location of my choice and bring whatever it is you’ve got that you think can help save Dean.  I’ll look it over, and if it’s legit, I’ll take it and tell you where to find your angel.  Once you have him, you take him and stay out of the way, let us do what we have to do to save Dean.  And no tricks!  You try to pull a fast one and not only will you never see your angel again, but I’ll make sure to personally hunt you down!”

            Magnus hummed again.  “I do believe you have yourself a deal.  But first I’ll require proof.  How do I know you have my angel?  Unless you can provide proof that Castiel is in your possession, no deal.”

            “You’ll have your proof as soon as I hang up.” Benny hung up and texted Magnus, sending him the picture he’d taken of the angel last night.

            Magnus quickly texted back.  Benny smiled.  They had a deal.  He was going to save Dean.


	20. Search and Rescue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean is determined to get his angel back, with or without the help of his friends

            Dean had Benny by the collar with one hand and had the other drawn back in a fist. Bobby, Sammy, and Garth were all on him, keeping him from sending his fist into the vampire’s face.  “You son of a bitch!” Dean roared, fighting to throw the three off.  “How could you let Magnus have Cas?!”

            “Dean!” Bobby yelled.  “If he hadn’t done it we never would have known about the angel and demon tablets!”

            “I don’t care!”  Dean struggled, furious as he was dragged away from Benny.  “Magnus beats and rapes Cas!  He’s probably doing just that as we speak!  How the hell could you let him have my angel?!”

            “You’re letting your feelings for that angel get in the way of your good sense, mon ami,” Benny said calmly.  “The most important thing is that we’ve got a chance, a real chance, to lock up both Heaven and Hell.  We can keep the angels and demons out of humanity’s way and let people make their own destinies, just like God intended!  That means Michael can’t come to claim you, Dean.  And once we throw Lilith back into the pit, the demons can’t come after Sam, either!  That’s well worth the cost of a little discomfort to an angel sex slave.”

            “A little discomfort?!”  Dean was sputtering in rage.  “It’s torture and rape!”

            “Yes, and we’ll put a stop to it,” Bobby reminded.  “Personal feelings aside, there’s no way we can let Magnus keep an angel.  Cas is just too powerful.  So we will be going after him, getting him back.  But first, we need to get to work on this.”  Bobby waved the copied pages Benny had gotten from Magnus.  “These are pages from that same book that Cas talked about, the one that told him the truth about Lilith and the last seal.”

            “I tried my best to get Magnus to give me the actual book,” Benny offered, looking apologetically at Dean.  “He wasn’t having it.  But what he gave me there’s well worth the price of one slave.”

            “He paid a million dollars for Castiel,” Garth reminded quietly.

            Benny winced.

            “It doesn’t matter how much we paid for him!” Sammy yelled. “Castiel is an angel, not an animal! I don’t understand how you can just dismiss him like this.  Yes, he’s a slave, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t still have feelings, ok?  Our society is so god damned biased that we think of slaves as less than people, but think about where most normal slaves came from? Every one of us standing here has broken red laws.  By law, every one of us standing here belongs in a collar and chains. Look around!  Would you be so casual about any one of us here going through what Cas is probably going through right now?  Especially you!”  Sam was looking pointedly at Bobby.  “You were ready to charge an auction house guns blazing to try to save Ellen Harvelle when she got sentenced to slavery for breaking red laws!  You pulled every string you could, gave up your life savings, to buy her freedom.  Think about her for a moment.  What if, instead of pouring drinks and helping hunters at the Roadhouse, she was tied to Magnus’s bed, experiencing what that bastard is likely putting Castiel through right now?!”

            Garth looked stricken.  Bobby’s face went blank.  Benny frowned.  “That angel’s been a sex slave for three years!  He should be used to it by now.”

            “No one gets used to rape and torture!” Sam snapped.  “No one!”

            “Cas doesn’t deserve this,” Dean insisted.  “Sam’s right.  All of us broke red laws, but what about Cas?  His only crime was that he disobeyed and wouldn’t let me get sent to Hell! He saved my life!  And for that, he spent three years as a sex slave?”  Dean shook his head furiously.  “No more!  I’m finding Magnus, and I’m getting my angel back.”

            “Alright, Dean,” Bobby agreed.  “The truth is, I was planning on getting him back anyway.  Far as I’m concerned, Magnus forfeited his right to draw in oxygen the day he messed with the four of you.  As for Castiel?  I just needed to know he was for real.”  He scratched at his beard.  “I’m going to tell you something now, Dean.  And I know you’re going to hate me for it.”

            “Bobby, don’t!” Benny warned.

            Bobby held up a hand.  “I should have been straight about this from the start.  But I needed to be sure about that angel.  You remember you asked me what Cas could do to prove himself, and I told you he was doing it?  Well, I needed to know his situation was real.  He told us that some prophet said he’d be the one to bring you to them, Dean. And that’s why I had Benny and Garth take him.  I figured if that was really supposed to happen, then something would interfere. Either Cas himself or the angels or some outside force would step in and make sure Castiel got back to Dean.  And that didn’t happen.  But I needed to be sure.”

            Sam gasped.  “You didn’t. Bobby, you didn’t tell Benny to sell Cas to Magnus!”

            “It wasn’t all his idea,” Benny called.  “He knew that the book the angel saw was our best chance to save you and your brother, Dean.  Bobby wanted me to work with the angel, find out what I could about Magnus’s lair so we could raid it and try to steal the book.  But I thought I saw an easier, safer way to get what we needed.”

            “So he called me, asked me what I thought,” Bobby continued.  “And I agreed.  I told him to sell Castiel to Magnus in exchange for the book or a true copy of it.”

            “So you sold him my angel, in exchange for the pages we needed from that book?  You sold Castiel for some photocopies?!”  Dean looked incredulously from Bobby to Benny.  “I can’t believe you!”

            “Dean...”

            “No!”

            “I’m with Dean,” Sam growled.  “You had no right!  None of you had any right.  Even if Castiel had broken every red law, just as we all did?  He does not deserve to be tortured and raped.  He does not deserve to be given back to the man who captured and enslaved him!  He does not deserve this, and I’m getting him back!”

            Dean sucked in his breath.  “You’re with me, Sammy?”

            Sam’s eyes were hard.  “I’m with you.”

            “I’m with you, too!” Garth announced.  The werewolf’s face was pale as he looked at the other hunters.  “Sam’s right.  I never should have taken Castiel away from Dean.  I know the angels can’t be trusted, and he tried to escape over and over, but Benny?  Bobby? I talked to him.  You know I’m a really good judge of character.  Castiel, he’s a good guy!  Angel!  Whatever, we can trust him.”

            Benny scoffed.  “We had all we could do to keep that damned angel from running away!”

            “He wanted to go back to Dean!” Garth argued.  “Of course he was trying to run away!”

            “He’d have gotten Dean and Sam enslaved!”

            “He saved Dean from going to Hell!”  Garth started ticking off points on his fingers.  “He showed us how to make the tattoos that keep the angels from finding us. He told us exactly what we needed to do to make that other stupid angel stop talking to Dean.  He warned us when we were being attacked.  He helped us fight.  He even told us how to get into Magnus’s hidden fortress of magic and where to find the book!  All we had to do was go get it!”

            “He also told us about the zoo, and the traps!” Benny countered.  “The only time the gates to that so-called ‘Fortress of Magic’ open is when Magnus allows someone in.  And when he lets someone in, he’s got his monsters from his zoo patrolling and spells to make sure no one goes where he doesn’t want them to go. Or did you forget how we got captured, Garth?”  He shook his head as the werewolf looked away.  “Yeah, you remember that, don’t you?  If we’d just gone in there after that book, we’d be risking capture or death! Did you really enjoy the last time he had us, Garth?!  Was that fun for you?”

            “No!” Garth shouted back.  “And it’s not fun for Castiel right now!  Magnus imprisoned us, Benny.  He hurt us, kept us locked in cages and starved us.  But he never raped us.  I couldn’t imagine that!  Can you?”

            Benny looked down.  “I did it for Dean.  To save Dean!”

            “I don’t want to be saved like that,” Dean said.  “Not if it means Castiel goes back to Magnus.  My life isn’t worth that!”

            “Is Sammy’s?” Bobby asked.

            Sammy shook his head.  “I’m not willing to accept that.  Dean sold his soul to save me once.  I’m not letting Castiel be sold to save me now.”

            “Damn it boys, we are talking about the apocalypse here!” Bobby reminded.  “What about the rest of the world?”

            “I don’t want to live in this world without Cas,” Dean said.  “Yeah, ok?  I’m in love with him.  I love him, and I need him back!”

            A hand closed on his shoulder.  Dean looked down and saw Garth looking up at him with determination.  “Then let’s get him back, Dean.”

            “I agree,” Bobby sighed, earning himself a set of surprised looks.  “I tried to be the voice of reason here, but to be honest, I’m sick to death of this whole thing.  No one deserves what Magnus did to that angel, what he’s doing again.  I never really wanted him sold to that bastard in the first place.  I thought it was the right thing to do, the safest option.  It was wrong.  I was wrong. Now I’ll help you get him back.”

            Benny shook his head and swore.  “I’m coming, too.  I did this for you, Dean, but I can’t stand to see you mope like this anymore.  You want your angel back?  Fine, I’ll help you.  Let’s get him back.”

            “Agreed,” Bobby grumbled.  “Let’s get this idjit his angel back.  Won’t be a moment’s peace now until we do.”

***

            “A meeting of magicians?” Benny wondered aloud.  “Really?  Mon deus, why don’t we just jump into an active volcano?  It would be a quicker death, probably less painful!”

            “Come on, Benny!” Garth called, giving his grumpy friend a shake.  “Yes, this is going to be complicated, but it’s not all bad.  With that many people coming and going, it’s going to be a lot easier to sneak in. Besides, it looks like he’s going to be right out there in the open, with all the glamor spells down on his Fortress of Magic!  We just have to wait for our chance to get inside, hide until the guests leave, and then pounce!”

            Benny grumbled something in French.

            “I don’t understand,” Sammy complained.  “I thought Magnus was a recluse, even among the magician’s community! Why’s he suddenly throwing this big party?”

            “Because he’s showing off,” Dean growled.  “When he tried to buy Cas before, he said he’d figured out a way to force Cas to do what he wanted.”

            Sam winced.  “If he did? If he’s got full control of Castiel, he’s going to flaunt that in front of all the magicians who snubbed him!”

            “Settle down, boys,” Bobby warned.  “We know we’re in the right place.  It’s time for the glamor spells.  Then we need to get to work.”

            Of course.  Dean forced himself to focus.  Castiel needed him now.  He could do this.

            Unfortunately, Bobby didn’t seem to feel the same.  “Dean?” he began.  “If Magnus has full control of your angel...”

            “I’m getting him out, Bobby,” Dean declared.  “If I have to kick his ass to get him out of this hell, so be it.  But I’m not leaving here without my angel.”

            “He’s an angel, Dean,” Benny warned.  “You saw what he did to those demons.  We gotta play this smart, brother.  If the angel comes after us, let me deal with him.  I’m the strongest, can last the longest.  I’ll hold out as long as I can.  You focus on going after Magnus and getting that book back.”

            Dean looked at his friend.  He remembered again how the vampire had stood at his side in Purgatory, selflessly helping Dean against his own kind until they could get back to Earth.  He wanted to hate Benny for selling his angel.  But how could he, knowing the vampire had only done what he’d believed he had to do to help Dean?  Dean nodded, reaching out to squeeze his friend’s arm.  “Thanks, Benny.”

            “Anything for you, mon ami.”

            The sincerity in the vampire’s eyes made Dean suddenly unable to speak.  He settled for a smile and a nod instead.

            Five minutes later, Dean was spelled to look like a member of the catering staff. Four actual staff members were neatly chloroformed and tied up in the brush.  Now Dean looked like a stuffy waiter in a bow tie.  He tried balancing a tray on one hand, failed miserably, and settled for holding it with one hand and his shoulder.  Good enough.

            Bobby and Sammy now also appeared to be stuffy waiters.  Garth, to Dean’s great amusement, appeared to be a leggy blonde waitress.  Dean couldn’t resist moving closer to whisper into “her” ear.  “Hey Garth, if I said you had a beautiful body, would you hold it against me?”

            “That’s sexual harassment, Dean.  Get to work.”

            Still chuckling, Dean took his tray of food and headed into the Fortress of Magic.

            All of his hopes about seeing hot lady sorceresses were instantly dashed. Magicians in real life, it appeared, were almost all unattractive, scholarly men, middle aged or older.  The few females among them looked like librarians, and not the sexy kind.  There were around two dozen people milling around in the dining area.  They looked uniformly in dire need of both sunlight and exercise.  Most were overweight, squinting through thick lenses earned from long hours spent studying ancient tomes.  And this was the group that had snubbed Magnus.  Ouch.  It was like being shunned by the high school chess club.  Dean almost felt sorry for Magnus.

            Then the man himself appeared, and Dean felt anything but sorry for him. Cas was walking at his right side. His chain was held tightly in the magician’s pale, soft left hand.  To Dean’s surprise, Castiel’s left hand was clutched in Magnus’s right.  And his angel, his beautiful angel, was smiling lovingly at the magician who had enslaved him.

            “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome!” Magnus called.  “I’m glad so many could come here tonight to my humble home.  As you’re aware, for many years now, I have been denied access to your ranks.  You told me that my magic wasn’t good enough.  Tonight, I’m here to hear your apologies, and your invitation back into your ranks.”

            Mocking laughter.  Magnus kept smiling, undeterred.  He turned to Castiel, released his hand and gently stroked the angel’s cheek.  “Let me introduce you to my pet,” the magician announced.  “Castiel, show the nice men and women what you are!”

            He quickly chanted a familiar spell.  Instantly, Castiel’s wings appeared, spreading up from his back in an arch towards the sky, black and gleaming and glorious.  Dean’s heart ached.  His fingers twitched, longing to draw his weapon and put a bullet between Magnus’s eyes for publicly humiliating his angel like this.  But the waiter who was Benny “accidentally” bumped into him, clearing his throat.  Dean checked himself fast.  He took some deep breaths.  Keep it together, Winchester.  You can’t save Cas if you blow your cover now.

            The crowd of magicians seemed impressed.  But one of them still sneered.  “We know you captured an angel, Magnus, but you can’t control him!” he called. “I owned that bastard myself for a while before I got wise and sold him.”

            “You’re a fool,” Magnus told him.  “Castiel is perfectly obedient.  All he needed was the right incentive.”

            He quickly spoke again and Castiel dropped to his knees.  To Dean’s alarm, his wings were still out, neatly tucked behind him.  The angel had to lean forward a bit to keep them from touching the floor.  “There, you see?” Magnus called as he stroked the dark hair.  “Perfectly obedient to my every command.  Aren’t you, my pet?”

            Castiel looked up and smiled.  “Yes, master.”

            Dean stopped breathing.  He could only watch as Magnus spoke again, drawing his angel up.  Castiel’s smile widened.  He took a step towards the magician and wrapped his arms around Magnus. Dean saw his angel’s hand cup the back of Magnus’s head.  And when Cas closed his eyes and pressed a kiss onto Magnus’s smirking lips, Dean very nearly threw up.


	21. Master

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and his friends make their move to save Castiel and obtain Magnus's book, but things don't work out the way Dean planned

            Dean held tight to the thrashing angel. “Master!” Cas was crying as he struggled against Dean.  “Master, please help me!  They’re taking me!”

            “Dean!” Bobby warned.

            Dean looked back in time to see the monster charging towards him.  He drew his weapon and fired quickly.  The struggling angel disrupted his aim, but it was close enough not to matter.  The monster screamed and fell back.

            Behind him, he could hear Garth snarling as he battled to guard their escape.  Bobby was somewhere back with him.  Benny was up front with Sam, trying to fight their way out.  “Dean!” Sam was yelling.  “We’re getting overrun!”

            “Come on, angel!” Dean pleaded.  “You’ve got to snap out of this!  We need your help, Cas, please!”

            But Cas never lost his terrified, desperate expression.  He clawed frantically at Dean’s arm around him.  “Master!” he cried, alerting every monster in Magnus’s zoo to their presence. “Master!”

            Dean still couldn’t wrap his mind around it.

            When he’d seen his angel kissing Magnus, it had been all Dean could do to keep from running up and smashing the tray he was carrying into the magician’s face.  Only Benny’s tight grip on his arm had grounded Dean enough to maintain control.

            At least Magnus hadn’t done anything worse than kiss Cas.  After that, the magicians were apparently suitably impressed, agreeing to invite Magnus into their secret club house or whatever it was magicians had.  Dean didn’t care.  He’d barely been able to keep his eyes off of Castiel long enough to not blow his cover.

            Castiel looked suspiciously happy.  The messy dark hair had been neatly gelled and combed down.  He was dressed in a sharp white tux.  His red bow tie and cummerbund matched the gaudy red tux Magnus was wearing.  The heavy chain attached to his collar was held tight in short loops dangling from Magnus’s hand.  The short chain was back on Cas’s wrists, no doubt to assure Magnus’s guests. Cas’s wings were still out, draped neatly across his back like a glossy black feathery cape.  And he was smiling.  Cas smiled as he obediently followed the tug of the chain at his neck, smiled as Magnus ignored him to speak to his guests, smiled as other magicians came up to inspect him, their grabby fingers even daring to comb through his feathers.  That last, at least, caused Cas’s smile to falter slightly.  But all the angel did was step a little closer to Magnus, as though he’d believed the magician would protect him.  Protect him!  Magnus, who had burned him alive inside a circle of holy fire until he’d agreed to lock the engraved collar around his own neck, then mocked him for doing it. Magnus, who had beaten him for refusing to obey.  Magnus, who had raped and abused him, then sold him, starting a cycle of horror that had haunted Castiel through three years of brutal enslavement.  Now Castiel pressed close to Magnus until the magician irritably elbowed him back.  And Cas simply looked at him, stepped back slightly, and smiled fondly at his tormentor.

            If he’d been here alone, Dean would have put a bullet in Magnus right then and there, room full of magicians and sorcerers be damned.

            There was only one thread of hope.  When Magnus had elbowed Cas back away from him, the jacket of the magician’s tux had slid back.  And there, in his breast pocket, was the top edge of Castiel’s book. That, Dean realized, was why Cas was acting this way.  Magnus had done something to reinforce Cas’s spells.  He’d broken Dean’s angel, but without the book, he couldn’t control Cas anymore.  All Dean had to do was get the book back.  Then his angel, his sweet, overly-serious angel, would be his again.

            The night seemed to drag on forever.  At one point, Magnus had moved close to Dean, pulling Castiel on his chain until the angel was only a couple of feet away. Dean could reach out a hand and touch him.  And Dean had. He’d moved casually closer, moving to collect a plate and “accidentally” allowed the knuckles of his free hand to brush against the angel’s.  A set of deep blue eyes shifted in Dean’s direction, and he stopped breathing for a moment.  But then Castiel’s eyes seemed to look right through him, quickly moving on.

            I’m in disguise, Dean reminded himself as his heart ached.  Cas doesn’t know who I am.  His powers are locked down, so he can’t see through the glamor spell.  If he knew it was me, it would be different.  Cas would be so happy to see me.  He’d fought so hard to keep from being taken away.  He’d cried out for me.  Struggled despite his magical restraints.  He wants to be with me.  He only kissed Magnus because he’s being forced.  Once I have his book, he’ll be free.  And somewhere in this shithole, Magnus has to have a book of spells, something that Sammy can use his big brain on.  We’ll free him.  Cas will be free.  And then I’ll tell him how I feel about him.  Cas will decide for himself if he wants to stay with me.

            Cas will want to stay with me, right?

            “Waiter!  Another glass!”

            Being a waiter sucked.  Dean poured drinks, dished out food, cleaned up slop, got bossed around by douche bag magicians and swore he’d give every waiter he ever had a huge tip from now on.

            Castiel had been taken to the other side of the room. The angel was waiting patiently, still smiling his pleasant little smile as Magnus talked to another magician. The fond look he was giving Magnus turned Dean’s stomach.  Whatever new spell Magnus had put on Castiel’s book, it must be powerful.  And now Magnus looked away from his guest long enough to look at Cas.  The hungry look in his eye as he looked at the angel made Dean clench his fists in fury.

            Don’t worry, angel.  I’ll get your book.  Then I’ll get you out.  I’ll save you, take you out of here and bring you back to the bunker.  You’ll be safe.  And even if we never find a way to free you, Magnus will never, ever, touch you again.  The thought provided Dean with comfort when the five hunters slipped away from the rest of the group and gathered together to discuss their strategy.

            “The safest, easiest way to do this is to wait until they’re all gone and Magnus is distracted,” Bobby was saying.  “I think we should split up, give each group a task. Garth and I will head to that reading room Cas told us about and grab the book with the information about the angel and demon tablets.  That way we’ll know everything we need to get them.  Benny, you go with the boys and get the angel back.  And Sam?  Make sure your brother doesn’t get too carried away!  We’re not going to have a lot of time.  Once Magnus figures out something’s wrong, he’s bound to activate his defenses.  I’d prefer not to have to fight our way through his entire zoo.”

            Sammy nodded.  The glamor spell had given him one of the wait staff’s short hair, but his hands were constantly rising up as though seeking his longer locks.  “Once we get Castiel’s spell book, I can’t imagine he’ll be interested in staying here.”

            “Magnus has his book in his pocket,” Dean reported. “And that son of a bitch is mine. I’ll be fast, but I’m going to make him pay for putting his hands on my angel!”

            “You do that, Dean!” Garth encouraged, excited. “Fight for your angel!  Once you get the manacle on him and get Castiel’s book, he won’t be able to use most of his magic.  Hit him once for me and Benny!”

            Dean gave him a sharklike grin.  “Oh, I intend to!”

            “Honestly, the safest way to do this would be to wait until Magnus is busy with the angel,” Benny suggested.  “Judging from the way he was looking at him towards the end of the night, I suspect as soon as they’re alone, Magnus is going to...”

            “He’s not touching Cas!” Dean snarled.  “Not again!  God knows what he’s already done to my angel since he got his hands on him to break him like this.  But it’s not happening again.  Never again!”

            “Dean, be smart about this,” Benny warned.  “You don’t have to stand back and let him actually start having sex!  But if he’s with the angel, and things are getting heavy, we’ve got a much better chance to...”

            “No!  He is never putting his hands on Castiel again!”

            “I agree,” Sam said.  “Cas has been through enough.  Whatever spell Magnus has on him right now that’s making him compliant, it’s still not anything Cas wants.  He can’t consent to any of it, not even that kiss we saw!  And I can’t stand back and let him be assaulted again, even if that spell makes him honestly believe it’s what he wants.”

            “They’re right,” Garth added.  “Even a heavy make-out session is just too much, Benny. How would you feel if it was Andrea?”

            Benny stiffened at the name of his dead mate. “Low blow, mon ami.”

            “I love him, Benny,” Dean insisted.  “This is no different for me than it was for you. You remember how desperate you were to free Andrea from the Old Man?  It’s no different!  I need to save my angel.  And I swear I’m going to make Magnus pay for what he’s done to him!  So when we get in there?  I need you and Sammy to just stay back and watch my ass.  Magnus is mine!”

            Something burned in the vampire’s eyes, understanding finally coming through.  “Make him pay,” Benny ordered.  “You make him pay, brother!”

            “Oh, I will,” Dean growled.  “Believe me, I will!”

            Waiting was agony.  When the last stragglers from the party trickled out, Magnus took Cas away, leading him further into the old house.  While Dean watched for his chance to get away from the catering team, his mind was filled with worst-case scenerios.  Magnus would be eager to get his hands on Cas.  What had he done with the lovely angel?  Was Cas already in Magnus’s bedroom, tied down once again for Magnus to take his sick pleasure?  Worse, was he waiting eagerly, so lost in the thrall of Magnus’s spell he believed he actually wanted what the magician would do to him?

            Finally, Dean couldn’t take it anymore.  Spotting Magnus returning empty-handed, Dean made his move.  Looking determined, Dean strolled up to the magician.  “Mr. Magnus?” he said, doing his best imitation of an irritated manager. “I’m afraid there’s a problem with your payment.”

            It seemed to work.  Magnus frowned in annoyance.  “What do you mean?  There was nothing wrong with the account your company was given!”

            “It’s being tagged as having inadequate funds,” Dean told him.  He deepened his frown.  “Look, pal, you owe us a lot of money for tonight.  I have bills to pay!  Don’t you have a credit card or something?”

            “Fine!” Magnus spat.  “Come with me.  Let’s get this settled quickly, shall we?  I have much better things to focus on tonight.”

            Of course he did.  Dean’s hands tightened into fists at his side.  He had to hold himself firmly in check to keep from wrapping his hands around Magnus’s neck and squeezing until the magician’s head popped off.  Not yet. Cas had provided them with part of the floor plan, but they had no way of knowing where Magnus was keeping him. And Magnus still had Cas’s book. Dean could spot the telltale binding sticking out of Magnus’s breast pocket as the magician angrily set a brisk pace down the hall.  Alright. Be smart about this.  A quick glance at the reflective surface of a window they were passing showed two figures trailing behind.  Dean’s back-up was ready.  Now it was up to him.

            “That angel on a chain back at the party?” Dean asked conversationally.  “That was something!”

            “Yes, Castiel spent weeks making those wings,” Magnus lied easily.  “As your team is aware, my guests and I belong to a rather exclusive club of role players.  You liked my angel slave?”

            “He was something!  Those wings looked real to me, and just popped up out of nowhere!”

            “Like I said, weeks of work.”

            “I’ll bet!”  Dean paused.  “Is he really your slave?”

            “Yes, actually, he is.”  Magnus had brightened now.  Apparently, he enjoyed talking about Cas.  “Lovely, isn’t he?  I went through a great deal of trouble to obtain him, and at great personal cost.”

            “I’ll bet!”  Oh, bitch, you have no idea what Cas is about to cost you.  Dean felt he deserved an award for the way he kept his professional smile in place.  Stay cool. Keep him talking.  Learn as much as you can.  “Where’d you put him?”

            “The library.  He’s fond of reading, so I give him a few harmless books and he’s happy. I usually keep him there while I go about my business.  He becomes distressed if he’s away from me for long.  But as long as he has something to read to keep his mind occupied? He’s quiet enough.”

            “So, what, you’ll just leave him chained up in the library all night?”

            “Of course not.  He’ll spend the night with me.”  The smile widened, and Dean’s fists clenched tighter.  “Just as soon as we conclude our business and you and your teammates are on your way out, I’ll take him to my bed.  He deserves a reward for his performance tonight.”

            Dean decided he’d heard enough.  He dug into his pocket, pulled out the manacle they’d engraved for the purpose, and snapped it onto the magician’s wrist.  As Magnus blinked in surprise, Dean was still moving, his hand deftly plucking Cas’s book from the man’s breast pocket.  The entire series of movements was smooth and practiced. Dean had been working on it for three days leading up to tonight.  He’d practiced removing the book from multiple pockets, including more difficult ones like an inside jacket pocket.  Getting the book from the magician’s breast pocket and safely tossed back to Sam’s waiting hands was simple.

            With the book gone, there was nothing to keep the sigils from activating when the manacle snapped into place.  Magnus actually gasped and wobbled a bit.  Then his eyes grew wide as the power of the activated anti-magic sigils on the arm he was using to try to push Dean back broke the illusion of Dean’s glamor spell.  “What?!”

            Dean grinned.  “How’s it feel to be powerless, asshole?” he snarled as he lifted the magician by the lapels and slammed him against the wall.  “How’s it feel to be completely at someone else’s mercy?  Are you scared?  Angry?  Frustrated? Regretting any decisions you might have made?”

            “Winchester, you’re making a mistake!” Magnus sputtered. “I don’t want any part of what’s going on with you and your brother and the Apocalypse.  All I want is my angel!”

            “Bad luck, asshole.  That’s all I want, too!”

            Finally, Dean got to punch Magnus.  It was quite possibly the most satisfying moment of his life.  The sound of his fist striking flesh was better than Zeppelin.  The blood flying from the magician’s mouth was a work of art.

            Magnus gave a yelp, followed by a rapid string of magicy sounding words.  Dean watched with great pleasure as the sigils glowed and nothing happened.  Then he went back to rearranging Magnus’s face. Some days, Dean loved his job.

            After far too short of a period of time, Sammy was dragging him off.  By now, the magician had stopped fighting.  He was lying on the ground under Dean, voicing the occasional grunt or moan of pain.  All Dean wanted was to make sure Magnus would never move again.  But Sam’s arms were around Dean, dragging him back.  Dean’s fists were aching and covered with blood. “Dean?” Sam called quietly.  “You need to step back now.”

            “He’s not dead, Sammy!” Dean warned.  “If we let this bastard live, he’ll just come after Cas again!”

            “I know, but there’s a lot of blood here, Dean. You need to step back.  Benny can’t hold back much longer.”

            Benny.  Dean’s eyes snapped up to the big vampire.  Already, Benny’s fangs were out, his eyes fixed on the whimpering, bleeding magician. Dean smiled.  “Yeah.  Go ahead, Benny.  I just wish we could let all the monsters he’s trapped in his zoo have a piece of him, too.”

            Sam let him go and handed Dean Cas’s book.  “Go get Cas.  I’ll bring Benny, once he’s back in control.”

            Leaving Benny to his grisly feast, Dean ran in the direction of what he assumed was the library.  His guess was good.  He ran in and there, chained securely to the wall with a book in his hand, was the one being he would have given anything to see.

            Castiel was still dressed in his white tux.  The red cummerbund was undone and on the table near him, as was his bow tie. But at least his wings weren’t visible anymore.  He was sitting on the floor on a padded bit of rug, not unlike a doggy bed.  It was the only concession to comfort Cas had been given.  The angel looked up with a hopeful smile when Dean entered.  But it vanished and his eyes went wide as he took in the sight of the bloody figure.

            “Cas!” Dean called, running over.  “It’s ok.  I’m not hurt.  I’m going to get you out of here.”

            Cas didn’t answer.  He got up quickly, his eyes roving rapidly over the blood as Dean unlocked his chain.  “I don’t understand.  What happened?”

            “What happened is that Magnus will never put his hands on you ever again,” Dean growled, gathering up Cas’s chain.  “Now come on.  I don’t have time to unlock your hands right now, but as soon as we’re in the car...”

            To Dean’s shock, Cas grabbed hold of the chain and pulled, nearly pulling it from the surprised hunter’s hand.  “What are you saying?  You’re not taking me anywhere!  What happened?  Where’s Master?  Master! Master, there’s an intruder, and he’s trying to take me!”

            It didn’t make sense.  Cas’s book was safe in Dean’s pocket.  Yet his angel didn’t seem to recognize Dean.  He was screaming and struggling so much that Dean finally had to resort to grabbing him and dragging the terrified angel out.  Cas’s white tux was stained with the blood that covered Dean.  As Dean dragged him past Magnus’s elaborate desk, the angel made a desperate lunge, straining against Dean to press something under the edge of the desk.

            Immediately, alarms sounded.  The sound of heavy doors closing drew Dean’s attention to the doorway. With a curse, he got a tight grip on Cas, tucked the angel under his arm, and charged through the closing doors. He barely made it before the doors closed inches from Cas’s frantically kicking feet.

            Now here they were, battling their way through the monsters Cas had released.  The air was filled with noise, screams and shrieks and roars, the boom of weapons, grunts of effort and the steady sound of the alarm.  But the worst sound of all was Castiel sobbing as he struggled against Dean.  “Where is my master?” the angel was crying.  “What have you done with him?”

            “Bobby!”

            Garth.  The werewolf was in a fury, attacking the wraith who had just stabbed her spike into the older hunter’s head.  Bobby collapsed as the wraith went down.  With a scream of negation, Dean dragged his angel towards the fallen hunter.  “Cas!” he called as he fumbled for the book.  “I’m sorry, but you have to heal Bobby!”

            “No!  Let me go! Master!”

            Dean buried his feelings, holding tight to the angel’s chain as he flipped for the spell.  He rapidly chanted it.

            The familiar glow came to Cas’s eyes.  Moving stiffly, Cas reached for Bobby.  Light shone from his hand.  Bobby’s terrible wound mended and he sat up with a gasp.  “Balls!”

            Then Bobby was getting glomped by an overjoyed werewolf.  Benny and Sam were yelling that they still needed help.  Dean was pocketing Cas’s book, wrapping his angel’s chain around his wrist.  And Cas was looking at Dean with an odd expression on his face.  Dean froze.  “Cas?”

            The angel’s head cocked to one side as he squinted at Dean.  But then he smiled.  “Hello.”

            Relief like a river washed through Dean.  “Oh, thank God!  Cas, we’re really in this fight!  We’ve got a whole zoo full of monsters about to run us under.  Can you help us?”

            Cas straightened.  “The spell with the picture of the figure with all the rays coming off of it?  Say it quickly, and then everyone, cover your eyes!”

            Dean read the spell and threw his arm over his eyes. The last he saw of his angel, Cas’s entire body had started to glow.

            The light was brighter than the sun, so bright it made Dean wince even with his eyes covered.  Shrieks sounded all around.  The smell of burning flesh rose.  Then everything was silent except the constant sound of the blaring alarm. Benny was whimpering in pain. Even with his eyes covered the light itself had caused his exposed skin to turn red and blister.  Garth appeared dazed.  Bobby and Sam were blinking, looking up at Castiel.  And the angel was standing, offering a hand to Dean.

            Dean took it and got up.  His eyes were locked with his angel’s.  “Cas?” he called.  “Does this mean you’re ok?  You know who I am?”

            “Of course I know who you are!”  Castiel stepped forward, reaching up with his chained hands towards Dean’s face, and drew him into a kiss.

            Dean’s arms were around Cas in seconds, crushing the angel’s slender body against his while he kissed Cas again and again.  He felt as though his heart would burst. Castiel, back in his arms where he belonged, and kissing Dean of his own volition?  Actually initiating it?  Nothing could be better.  It took Bobby giving his shoulder a harsh shake before Dean was able to process his surroundings coherently again.  He drew himself away with effort.  “I love you,” he told Cas.  “I’d do anything for you, and I promise I’ll prove that to you as soon as I can.  But right now, we have got to get out of here.”

            Cas nodded.  “Of course.  The fastest way out is down this hall, turn right, and head out through the side door. That will also bypass the wards.”

            “You did great, Castiel!” Garth cheered as he helped Benny up.  “Thanks to you, we were able to get that book!  And I grabbed a few more I saw on Enochian sigils.  We’ll save Sam and Dean and get that collar off of you!”

            Cas eyed him with obvious distrust.

            “It’s ok,” Dean soothed, putting an arm around his angel.  “They won’t hurt you.  And no one is ever going to take you away from me again!”

            That made Cas smile.

            A moment later they were back at the vehicles. Dean couldn’t resist kissing Cas some more.  The angel was wonderfully responsive, pressing eagerly against Dean.  The soft, eager little sounds he was making were driving Dean wild.

            Bobby cleared his throat.  “Dean?  You’ll have time to reunite with your angel back at the bunker.  But don’t forget, we have a lot of work to do.  Um, what are you doing?”

            “What’s it look like I’m doing?” Dean asked, annoyed. He had the key to Cas’s chains and was twisting the manacle on Cas’s left wrist, ready to unlock the chain connecting his hands.

            Bobby quickly closed a hand over the key.  “How about you leave that for now?  Just until we get back to the bunker and we can talk.”

            Now every eye was on Bobby.  “Bobby, Cas just saved our lives back there!” Sam protested. “You especially!  Whatever spell Magnus had on him, Dean must have broken it when he commanded Cas to heal you.  He’s proven that he’s trustworthy!”

            “That’s not what I’m worried about.”  Bobby pulled off his hat, scratched at his head, and popped his hat back on, avoiding Dean’s eyes.  “He was fighting tooth and nail right up until Dean used one of his spells.  And since then?  Well, the way he’s been acting isn’t right.  He isn’t saying anyone’s name.  This whole time, since he’s stopped fighting, he hasn’t yet called anyone by name! And the way he’s smiling?  After what Magnus must have put him through, do you really think it’s normal for him to be just standing there, smiling fondly at Dean?  Is that how he was after you got him back from the Enforcers?”

            Dean looked at his angel.  Sure enough, Cas was just standing there, smiling fondly at him. That smile.  It was precisely the same way he’d been smiling at Magnus. With a sinking heart, Dean took Cas’s shoulders.  “Cas, do you know who I am?”

            “I know exactly who you are!”  Cas leaned forward, seeking another kiss

            Dean gave him a shake.  “Stop.  What’s my name, Cas?  Tell me who I am?”

            Cas chuckled.  “Master!” he exclaimed.  “You’re Master, of course!”


	22. Hidden Chains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean finds himself torn about the way Castiel is acting

            All anyone had to do was hold Cas’s book and command him.  That was it.  Cas immediately seemed to forget all about his former “Master” and would eagerly embrace the new.  Literally. Dean couldn’t believe how tactile Castiel was now.  It made a sick, horrible sense.  Magnus had broken the angel.  Magnus wanted a sex slave.  Dean had no doubt know that this version of Castiel would be willing and eager to follow any command.  As they tried spell after spell, hoping to free Cas, the only way to test it was for someone else to become his “Master.”  And over and over again, the result was the same.

            There was only one spot of hope in this whole horrible situation.  Cas was now the perfect, obedient, submissive, tactile sex slave Magnus had always intended him to be.  He stood far too close to whoever he currently considered “Master” and frequently touched them.  It made Sam stammer and quickly hand the book to Dean, Bobby scowl, Benny roll his eyes and Garth cringe, looking at Dean as though he expected Dean might attack.  But Dean was the only “Master” that Castiel tried to kiss.  As much as the entire situation sickened him, Dean took some small comfort from that.

            After the seventh failed attempt to break whatever spell was affecting Cas, Bobby angrily threw Cas’s book back at Dean.  “We’re not getting anywhere!” he exclaimed.  “And I don’t think we’re going to, not until we can do a real study of the books we took from Magnus.  So take your angel, Dean, and you keep him.  We shouldn’t keep passing him around like this anyway.  It’s got to be confusing the hell out of the poor wretch.”

            Dean tried not to let his eagerness show as he broke the glass they’d been using and quickly used Cas’s book to order him to repair it.  The heal spell seemed the simplest way to test the transfer of ownership.  Now that Cas had healed everyone, the glass seemed the logical choice.

            Cas quickly repaired the broken glass.  Then he immediately moved to embrace Dean.  “Master, are you pleased with me?”

            “Yeah, sure, good job, buddy.”  It was killing Dean to see his angel like this.  But in his secret heart of hearts, he was thrilled at the way Cas’s dry lips spread in a happy smile, how they immediately pressed to his own.  It took tremendous effort to push the eager angel back.  Dean already had a headache.  “Cas, don’t do that, ok?”

            Cas stilled, his eyes filled with hurt.  “I don’t please you?”

            “Yes, you please me, god damn it!  Ugh, the sooner we get this spell off of you, the better.”

            Cas seemed to wilt, and Dean felt like a horse’s ass.

            “We’re all tired,” Benny called.  “I’ve spent more time in the daylight in the past few days than I have in the past century.  My body doesn’t know if it’s coming or going!”

            “I’m beat, too,” Garth admitted.  The usually energetic werewolf was visibly sagging.

            Bobby snorted.  “Benny’s got a few centuries on me, but you’re both in young men’s bodies.  Try my years on for size and let’s talk about being tired!”  He got up, wincing as his spine popped.  “I’m heading to my room.”

            “I’m coming with you,” Sam called.

            Dean looked up in surprise from the act of stuffing Cas’s book into the pocket of his jacket.  “Um, what? Wait, Sam, you’re staying with Bobby tonight?”

            Sam nodded.  “I thought it might be best if I wasn’t around, you know, so you two could talk in private?”  His eyes flicked to Castiel, who was looking hopefully at Dean.  “At any rate, I’m turning in.  See you in the morning, guys.”

            “But Sammy?  Benny? Come on!  Garth?  Bobby, you can’t be serious!”

            The door closed behind the last of his friends, and Dean was alone with his angel. “Son of a bitch!”

            He could feel Cas’s eyes on him as he paced in front of the door.  Then he heard the rattle of the angel’s chain as Cas stood up and moved towards him.  “Master?” he called.  His chain brought him up just short of where he could reach Dean.  “What’s wrong?”

            “That’s what’s wrong, Cas!” Dean exclaimed.  “That, right there.  Calling me ‘Master?’  Cas, what’s my name?”

            Cas looked confused.  “Master.”

            “No, Cas!  My name is not ‘Master’ and I never want you to call me that again!  My name is Dean, ok?  Say my name.  It’s Dean!”

            Now Cas looked troubled.  “Dean. Hello, Dean.”

            Dean breathed a sigh of relief.  “Ok.  I know you’re only calling me by my name because I told you to, but it’s still worlds better than ‘Master.’  If I have my druthers, you’ll never call anyone that again.”

            “Of course, Dean.”  Cas was looking at Dean like a puppy, anxious to please its owner.  The collar and chain at his throat did nothing to help that analogy.

            “Ok. Come and sit down.”  Dean sat back down on the bed, patting the space next to him. The angel sat down.  Almost immediately, his arms went around Dean and he leaned in for a kiss.  Dean pushed him back.  “No! Cas, don’t do that!”

            Cas looked stricken.  “Dean, have I done something wrong?  If I have, please punish me so I can do better!”

            “Ugh, no, Cas!  You’re not doing anything wrong.  It’s just, I don’t want you like this.”

            “You don’t want me?”

            Dean had already been comparing Cas to a puppy.  Now he felt as if he’d just kicked one.  He groaned and took the angel’s hands.  “Cas, listen to me, ok?  I need you to understand.  Something is wrong with you.  Magnus did something and turned you into this obedient slave, but that’s not who you are!”

            “Dean, I’m the same angel I always was,” Cas insisted.  “I’m a multidimensional wavelength of celestial intent inhabiting a human body.”

            “But you’re not you!” Dean countered.  “Before, you always fought against your spells until you broke free. You wouldn’t let anyone touch you. You resisted, you rebelled, you broke things!  You never just gave in like this and let anyone treat you like a sex slave just because they used your book and commanded you, Cas!  In fact, the opposite was true!  Commanding you with your book was the fastest way I knew of to piss you off and get you fighting!  Remember?”

            Cas went quiet.  His face was set in a troubled frown as he thought.  “I remember,” Cas said at last.  “I remember everything.  But I was wrong, Dean.”  His hand moved up, touched the collar at his throat.  “From the moment I locked this onto myself, I should have accepted my place. As an angel, I was created to serve. I served God.  Then when God left us, I served the archangels.  But I rebelled.  I defied the one purpose for which I was created.  I refused to serve, and so I was cast out.  This?”  He touched the collar again.  “This is nothing more than what I was always meant to be.  I’m serving again, just as I was created to do!”  His hand moved to Dean’s chest.  “I know that something is strange.  My Master keeps changing.  And there’s something inside of me, some part of that wavelength that seems somewhat out of tune with the rest of my being.  With my other Masters, there was part of me that still wanted to rebel. To resist.  To fight what I am and have the free will I was never intended to have...”

            “Yes!”  Dean seized Cas’s hand with both of his.  “Yes, Cas, that’s you, the real you!”

            “But now that part of me is quiet,” Cas continued.  “When you are my Master, I don’t want to fight.  I don’t want free will, because all I really want is you.”

            Dean groaned.  “You don’t even know what you’re saying!  Magnus’s spell...”

            “Magnus did something to me that changed me,” Cas admitted.  “He, he made everything different.  I have been inside of human dreams and this?”  He made vague motions towards his head.  “This seems like that.  I know that I’m an angel and I was meant to serve.  There’s something inside of me that fights and resists any other master.  But not you. When I’m with you, that’s when I really understand.”  Cas’s hand tightened on Dean’s.  “Before, I was fighting everything because I was afraid to serve.  I was afraid to lose my free will.  But while I was fighting against what I truly am, I was also fighting against what I really want.”  His other hand moved up, gently stroked Dean’s cheek.  “From the moment I saw you, I believed that we had a profound bond.  Your soul, your righteousness?  Dean, you are so beautiful!  I have never seen another like you.  And I couldn’t help but want what I knew no angel should ever want.”

            “Cas...”  Dean was fighting to stay in control, but he was rapidly losing the fight.  “I can’t, Cas.  I won’t rape you!  You can’t consent, I can’t do this!”

            “I want you to have me, Dean,” Cas insisted.  “What Magnus did to me?  Taking away my ability to fight freed me from my inhibitions.  Now I don’t have to fight!  I can have the one thing that I gave up Heaven for, gave up my freedom for. You.  My Righteous Man.  Dean Winchester.”

            Dean startled.  “You... You said my name!”

            “I have always known who you are,” Cas told him.  “Even from in this dream, I know who you are.  I have always felt drawn to you.  And from the moment I saw you, I have always belonged to you.”

            Cas was kissing Dean again, and Dean was kissing him back.  His arms went around Castiel, pushing him back onto the bed. Cas’s manacled hands raised.  His arms hooked around Dean’s neck, pulling Dean down with him.  Dean greedily explored the angel’s mouth.  Cas gave a little happy cry, willingly allowing it.  And now, oh, what was this?  Cas had thrown a leg over Dean and was pressing up against him.  The angel was wonderfully hard.

            Dean stopped thinking.  The chains at Castiel’s wrists were in the way.  He pulled free long enough to dig in his pocket and unlock them.  Now Cas’s hands were free to explore.  Explore they did, dragging up Dean’s shirt, tracing up his sides to caress his chest.  Dean had his shirt off in moments.  Cas was still wearing the fancy tux.  The jacket was thrown carelessly to the floor.  The waistcoat and lapel followed.  By the time Dean finally had the angel naked from the waist up he was harder than he’d ever been in his life.  His beautiful angel wanted him.  Dean had every intention of taking what he was offering.  He kissed and lapped at Cas’s chest, thrilling at the fine muscles as his hands moved down.  Then he felt something odd and hesitated.  What was this?  Low on Castiel’s abdomen, Dean’s hand encountered a strange lump.  Had that always been there?  Any time he’d seen Castiel without his clothes, he’d tried hard to keep his eyes to polite zones.  Now he had no idea what he was feeling.

            Cas didn’t seem bothered by whatever it was.  He was kissing Dean, mouthing at Dean’s neck.  His hands explored Dean’s chest.  By the time they were clawing at the hunter’s back, Dean forgot all about the weird lump.  He was far more interested in pressing Cas down into the mattress, moaning when his dick brushed against the angel’s.  Why the hell was he wearing so many clothes?!

            Cas’s hands dropped to the front of Dean’s jeans and paused.  “Command me,” he whispered.

            Dean’s brain short circuited.  “What?”

            “Command me, Dean!  Tell me what you want.  I’ll do anything you ask!”

            Reality hit like a tsunami.  This wasn’t real.  Cas wasn’t consenting to this because he couldn’t.  No matter what, right now the angel simply wasn’t capable of consenting to sex because he didn’t have the ability to say no.  What Magnus had done to him had taken away Cas’s ability to fight back and exercise his free will.  For fuck’s sake, Cas had flat-out TOLD Dean that!

            What am I doing?  What the hell am I doing?!

            “Dean?”  Cas’s arms tightened around Dean, pulling him back down as Dean tried to rise.  “What is it?  What’s wrong?”

            “This!  Everything about this is wrong!”  Dean pried the angel’s arms off and pinned them to the bed.  His dick throbbed with every beat of his heart.  “Cas, this can’t be about what I want, because you’re not able to tell me what you want!”

            “I told you what I want!”  Cas was frowning, trying to free his hands.  “I want you!  I can make you happy, Dean.  I can please you!”  He smiled hopefully up at Dean.  “You want me. I know you do!  Why won’t you just make love to me and give us both what we want?”

            “Because that wouldn’t be making love.  You’re under a spell, Cas!  If I took you now, it wouldn’t be any different than if I took advantage of you while you were drugged, or I forced you with the spells in that book.  It wouldn’t be love.  It would be rape.  And you are never going to be raped again, Cas.  Not ever again, and certainly not by me!”

            Cas went quiet.  Dean let him go, sat up, and rubbed at his face.  “I love you, Cas,” he said.  “I want to make love to you so much!  But the only thing you know about sex is pain.  I want to show you something new.  I want to hold you and go slow.  I want to hold back, worship you until you’re ready for me.  Then I want to take you, when you’re ready, and make sure you enjoy it.  I want to make you understand that sex can be about pleasure, about a bond between two people.  But I can’t do that while you’re under this spell!”

            “You wouldn’t be raping me!  I wanted you before!” Cas sat up, throwing his arms around Dean’s neck.  “I just couldn’t act on it because I knew it would make me vulnerable to you!  Dean, please!”

            Dean pried the arms off yet again, pinning the frustrated angel’s hands down on his chest.  “When we free you, if you still want me?  Then we’ll be together.”  He gave Cas a chaste kiss on the forehead.  “I love you, Castiel, far too much to do this now.”

            The heartbreak in the angel’s eyes was too much to bear.  Dean fumbled for his shirt, threw it on, and headed for the door.  Immediately, Cas was up, moving as close as his chain allowed.  “Where are you going?” he asked.

            “Out,” Dean announced.  “I’m going for a run.  Need to clear my head.”

            “I love you, Dean!” Cas called, desperate.  “Please don’t leave me!”

            “Cas, I have no intention of leaving you.  I love you.  That’s not going to change.  I just need to go for a run and clear my head.  Alright?”

            The angel seemed to deflate.  He wrapped his arms around himself and backed away until he reached the wall where his chain was locked.  There, he sank down and curled up into a miserable ball on the floor.

            Don’t go to him now.  Don’t. If you go to him, you might not be able to stop yourself from laying him right back down on that bed and picking up where you left off.  Walk away. Get out, go for a run.  Clear your head and talk to him when you can think straight.

            Running with an erection was an endurance exercise that would never catch on. The cold rain that began to fall helped. Dean pushed himself, using the physical activity as an outlet for the sexual tension that had very nearly boiled over tonight.  He’d told Castiel he loved him.  He’d admitted it to his angel and to his friends.  And Castiel had said he’d loved him back.  Of course, Dean couldn’t believe that.  Cas was being influenced by whatever spell Magnus had used.  The spell was an invisible chain, trapping Castiel with links far stronger than any physical chain used to confine him. Until that spell could be removed? Until Cas was free, with his collar and manacles melted slag and nothing to prevent him from spreading those amazing wings and taking his rightful place in the sky?  Dean couldn’t touch him.  Only then would Cas be able to decide how he really felt about Dean. What had Cas called himself?  A multidimensional wavelength of celestial intent, god, he was such an adorable nerd!

            They came out of nowhere.  One moment, Dean was jogging alone, lost in his thoughts.  The next he was surrounded.  Four people, all wearing dark suits, were around him.  Dean stopped so fast he nearly fell on his face.  He turned in a small circle, eyeing the four. Then his eyes locked on a fifth figure that was walking towards him, a pleasant smile on his face.  “Dean Winchester,” Zachariah called.  “The Righteous Man, here at last!”

            Dean’s heart sank.  He’d already run almost half a mile from the motel.  He hadn’t taken his jacket, which meant he hadn’t taken his phone.  No one but Cas had any idea where he’d gone, and Cas was chained to the wall.  This was not good.  “Hey, Zach,” he called cautiously.  “How’d you find me?”

            “Castiel, of course,” Zachariah explained cheerfully.  “We knew from the prophecy that he would bring you out, and sure enough, he did!  All we had to do was watch that stupid magician.  He got Castiel away from you, you came chasing after him, and all we had to do was follow.  Then it was a simple matter of waiting until you literally ran right to us!  And now here you are!”

            “I won’t let Michael have me,” Dean warned, eyeing the four angels surrounding him. “I’m saying no.  Just let me go, Zach!”

            Zachariah only chuckled.  “Dean? It’s time to go.”

            Dean bolted to the right, dashing between two of the angels.  But there was a flutter of wings, and suddenly Zachariah was right in front of him.  Dean whirled, tried to run.  But the other angels were on him.  One was holding each of his arms.  One had his arms up under Dean’s arms, trapping his shoulders.  The forth had her hands pressed against Dean’s chest.  Even one of them would have been too much. Their strength was impossible. Dean strained and couldn’t move. He glared at Zachariah.  “Let go of me!  I’ll never say yes to Michael!”

            “Relax, Dean!  You’re our guest of honor, after all.  I can assure you, you’ve got an incredible future ahead of you.”

            “Fuck you!”

            Zachariah rolled his eyes.  “Of course. You’re upset now, but don’t worry. Soon, you’ll be grateful!  After all, this was always meant to be.”  He gave a little gesture with one hand. “Take him to the room.”

            With a flutter of wings, the angels were gone, taking their prisoner to Zachariah’s green room.

            Zachariah stood in the rain, tilting his head back so that his face was towards the sky.  “Dean Winchester has been saved,” he sent.  “It has begun.”

            From the darkness of a cheap motel room, Castiel jerked upright.  He felt cold as the words transmitted over Angel Radio reached him.  “Dean?  No.  No!  DEAN!”


	23. Paying the Price

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel is sold back to Magnus, who has plans for him

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, I may have overdone it on this one.
> 
> MistyEyes73, my Plot Guru, listened to my original idea for this and pointed out how impractical it was. But along with being the Jedi Grand Master of Plotlines, she's also a nurse. She gave me a much better idea. I used it in the story. Then I sent it to her to check for medical accuracy. She told me that it was passible, but I really needed to post trigger warnings for this chapter. So, trigger warnings for serious angst, medical stuff, and non-con. She also suggested I post an end note so those who may be triggered by those things can still follow the story. Taking her advice. If you may be triggered, please click on the end notes. For everyone else, she contributed so much to the plotline at this point that it's only fair I give her credit. The storyline and the horror aspect were from me, but the plot device and how it worked was all her. Hat's off, MistyEyes73. You saved this story.

            When Benny had come for him, hissed at him to keep quiet, and taken him stealthily away, Castiel had known it wasn’t good. When he’d put Castiel in the car and pushed it a bit away from the trailer rather than simply starting the engine, it had been obvious that the vampire was taking him without Garth’s knowledge.  And by the time Benny got the car rolling down the hill and finally started the engine, Castiel understood.  “You’re selling me,” he said quietly.“You’ve got someone who wants to buy me, and you don’t want Garth to know.”

            Benny at least looked guilty.  “It’s not personal, angel.  My friend needs help.  If I sell you to Magnus...”

            “Magnus?!”  Castiel felt the blood drain from the human face he wore.  His hands clenched into fists.  “You’re selling me to Magnus?  No, you have no right!  You don’t own me!  When Dean finds out...?”

            “I’m doing this for Dean.”  Benny looked over at him.  “Listen, angel.  I get Magnus is a bastard.  The short time he had me prisoner was proof enough of that.  I know this won’t be easy for you, but you’re going to have to take one for the team here.  Magnus will give us information we need in exchange for you, information that can help us save Dean and his brother from the rest of your kind!  Don’t you think that’s worth the price?”

            The anger drained out of Castiel.  “I suppose,” he admitted.  “Especially since it won’t be you that will be paying the price.”

            Castiel got no pleasure from the way the vampire flinched.

            The two said no more until Benny reached his destination, an abandoned hunting cabin.  Benny took Castiel inside and chained him to a familiar ring in the wall. Then the vampire hesitated, unlocked the short chain from one of Castiel’s manacles, and quickly pulled the angel’s hands behind his back.  Castiel scoffed.  “So taking one for the team means I’m given no way to defend myself?”

            “This has to happen,” Benny insisted, not meeting his eyes.  “Magnus has information we need.  If he gets you, he’ll give it to us and leave us alone.  If we tried to steal it?  Even if we managed to pull it off, we’d have to watch our backs from either him or a business partner looking to collect.  Selling you to him in exchange for the information is the safest choice. If you care about Dean at all, you’ll understand that.”

            “I do understand that!” Castiel snapped.  “What I also understand is that if you do this?  If you sell me back to Magnus to save Dean?  You’ll kill him.”

            Benny’s head shot up.  “You know something I don’t?”

            “I know that every time someone else is sacrificed to save Dean Winchester, another part of him dies,” Castiel said. “Garth becoming a werewolf to help him escape to Purgatory was bad enough.  Learning about what I did nearly destroyed him.  If you’re right?  If Dean really is in love with me?  Then what do you think it will do to him to learn that you’ve sold me to save him?”

            That troubled the vampire.  It didn’t stop Benny from chaining Castiel’s hands behind his back, but Benny was obviously thinking hard when he stepped back.  “He’s got to understand that it’s for his own good,” he finally said.

            “Do you really think he’ll understand that?” Castiel challenged.  “You know what Magnus will do to me.  Do you think, knowing Dean, that he’ll just nod sagely and accept it?”

            “This isn’t permanent,” Benny insisted.  “Once Dean and Sam are safe, we’ll come for you. That stupide amoureuse imbécile won’t rest until he gets you back anyway.  When the time comes, I’ll help him.  Until then? You just do what you need to do to stay alive.  I’ll make him understand.”

            Somehow, Castiel doubted that.  If asked, he would have said that the likelihood of anyone making Dean Winchester understand anything deemed for his own good was slim to none.  But of course, no one asked him.  And now Benny was leaving, dropping Castiel’s book on the table and pulling the door closed. A moment later, Castiel heard the car’s engine start up.

            The wait was simultaneously an eternity and not nearly long enough.  With nothing else to do, Castiel closed his eyes and thought of Dean.  Memory after memory of Dean flashed through his mind, helping to quell his rising panic.  Dean would come for him.  Garth would find out what Benny had done and tell Dean.  Dean would be furious.  Dean wanted him, maybe even loved him.  He’d come. Dean had already made it clear that he wouldn’t sell Castiel to Magnus.  Benny was selling him illegally.  If Castiel could only escape, the Enforcers would return him to his rightful owner.  He’d be restored to Dean.  He only had to get away.  He’d wait, let Magnus lower his guard, and escape.

            Then the sound of another car pulling up announced Magnus’s arrival.  Just the sight of the magician standing in the doorway made Castiel’s heart sink. The magician’s eyes looked Castiel up and down, inspecting him like produce.  A smile came to Magnus’s lips.  “Finally!” he said, moving in and pocketing Castiel’s book.  “Oh, Castiel, my beautiful pet, you have no idea how much I’ve missed you!”

            The touches.  The caresses.  The kisses. Castiel fought and struggled only to be confined by chains and sigils and spells rippling rapidly from the magician’s tongue.  “No!” he’d screamed.  “No, leave me alone!  You couldn’t control me before, and you can’t control me now!”

            “Ah, that’s where you’re wrong,” Magnus whispered. He’d pinned Castiel into the corner, his arms tight around the thrashing angel.  His breath was warm against Castiel’s ear.  “I was just looking at things the wrong way.  I can’t completely control you with any spell.  You’re just too stubborn to break from mere physical punishment.  But you’ll break, my lovely.  I know just what to do now.  You’ll be perfect, my willing, submissive pet!”

            Dragged outside.  Forced into the cage in the trunk.  The long, cramped, bumpy ride in the trunk with no light, little air, and the sickening stench of exhaust as his only company.  But the ride was paradise compared to what would come.  Take one for the team.  Pay the price.  Castiel knew only too well the price he’d pay.

            But Magnus surprised him.  When Castiel was taken out of the cage in the trunk and dragged inside, he expected to be taken immediately either to the punishment room, or to Magnus’s bed.  The last place he’d expected to find himself was Magnus’s workshop.  Castiel was forced face down onto the workbench.  His hands were freed from the chain, locked instead to the workbench.  Straps were placed across the angel’s torso and legs, further restraining him. Magnus tore and cut his shirt away, but for some reason, the magician made no move to remove Castiel’s pants. That was an unexpected, but welcome turn of events.  Castiel eyed Magnus over his shoulder, watching as the magician looked over his notes and gathered various items.  Spell components?  “Your spells can’t control me,” Castiel reminded.  “You can force me to obey, but I’ll always break free.”

            “Of that, I am very much aware,” Magnus replied absently.  “But don’t worry, my pet.  This is no spell.”

            Not a spell?  Now Castiel was confused.  His confusion persisted as Magnus began to mix various items, carefully measuring and pouring.  It had to be a spell!  Then his confusion turned to alarm when Magnus picked up a large needle, carefully drew up some of whatever he’d created, and turned to Castiel.  “Relax, angel,” he soothed.  “I need to run some tests to determine the correct dosage.  Don’t worry.  It will be over soon.”

            The needle slid into the flesh of his back, digging deep into his spine.  Then burning fire spread from the place he’d been injected, washing through his body. He screamed, struggled as the fire spread, traveling up his spine.  By the time it reached his head, Castiel felt as though he was trapped once more in the circle of burning holy oil, being burned alive.

            The world changed.  Reality itself warped and twisted.  He was lost, spinning through time and space.  Then he heard a voice.

            “Castiel.  Open your eyes, my son.”

            “Father?”  Reality was still in chaos.  Entire galaxies spun by as Castiel searched eagerly for the source of the voice. “Father, where are You?”

            “I’m here.”

            Castiel stared at the figure before him, made entirely of light, in awe.  Looking at the light made Castiel feel somehow light-headed.  It made thinking difficult.  He shook his head.  “Father! But You’ve never talked to me before. Why are You here now?”

            “I have a mission for you.”

            “Another mission?”  Castiel shook his head.  “Why? For all of eternity, You have given Your angels missions, yet only a handful have ever heard Your voice.  Why come to me now?”

            “Because I want to understand.  Why do you fight?” God asked him.  “Why is it that you continuously disobey?”

            “Because...  Because I’m not a mindless soldier!” Castiel cried.  “Father, this apocalypse, it cannot be what You want for Your world! And the Winchesters, they don’t deserve to suffer so that my brothers can finally have their fight.  These orders cannot come from You!  You gave Your humans free will.  You gave them the ability to choose.  If Michael and Lucifer have their war, all of their choices will be taken from them!”

            “That is My will, My son,” God insisted.  “You are an angel, one of My soldiers.  Your only purpose is to obey.”

            “My only purpose is to obey,” Castiel repeated. “Of course.  You’re right, but...”  Castiel frowned.  “Father, why are You speaking English instead of Enochian?”

            God seemed somehow startled.  “Oh!  Well, convenience, I suppose.  I’ve spent so much time here on Earth, hearing their language, I often don’t even realize I’m speaking it.”

            “You’ve been here?  On Earth?”  Castiel looked around suspiciously.  He saw the Earth, but it was wavy, distorted.  Some faint sense of alarm was growing stronger.

            “Castiel?” God called, drawing Castiel back from his thoughts.  “I’m here because I have a mission for you.  It’s time for you to serve again.  I have a new master for you.  And you are to obey him as you obey Me.”

            Castiel frowned.  “What?  You’re giving me away?  But... No!”

            Something hard and heavy was on his neck.  His body was held down to a hard surface.  The world swam, another world starting to bleed through.  “No, this isn’t right!  Father, what’s happening?”

            “Hmm, not strong enough,” God mused.  “Going to have to increase the dosage.”

            Another sharp pinprick in his back.  More burning fire moved up his spine.  Castiel screamed as reality warped even more.

            Castiel stood on a beach, watching as a tiny fish dragged itself out of the water.  The creature’s mouth opened, sucking down air for the first time.  His brother Gabriel stood next to him.  An aura of light surrounded the archangel.  Looking at it made Castiel feel as though everything was right.  “Don't step on that fish, Castiel,” Gabriel warned.  “Big plans for that fish.”

            “Gabriel,” Castiel greeted him fondly.  “Gabriel, I’ve missed you!  Why did you leave?”

            “I shouldn’t have,” Gabriel admitted.  “I miss Heaven.  I miss my brothers, especially you.  I never should have left.”

            “Heaven isn’t the same without you,” Castiel said. “Michael pushes his will on everyone, and Raphael just goes along.  You were the only one who ever stood up to him!”  He sighed and shook his head.  “I do understand why you left, brother.  The constant infighting and power struggles, Michael’s bullying, and the expectation to just mindlessly obey orders?”

            “But that’s why we were created,” Gabriel reminded. “We’re supposed to obey orders, Castiel.”

            “Not you.”  Castiel smiled at his brother in admiration.  “You proved that free will was possible, even for an angel!”

            “Well, brother, that may be the case, but the thing is, I was wrong.  I sought out free will, and my existence lost its meaning.  I have no purpose.  But you? You have a purpose,” Gabriel reminded. “You have a mission, Castiel. Remember?”

            “I do.”  He did.  All he had to do was look at the glow surrounding his brother, and everything made sense.  Understanding washed over him, washing away the doubt, the unnatural need for free will and self-actualization.  He was an angel.  He’d been created to serve.  For a moment, something inside of him resisted.  But a low voice, whispering incantations into his ear, drowned it out. For the first time in too long, he was pure, sure of his purpose.  He existed only to serve.  After all, if even Gabriel realized his mistake in seeking out free will, who was Castiel to doubt?  Castiel straightened, setting his shoulders.  “I do remember my mission.  And I’ll carry it out, brother.”

            Gabriel brightened.  “Then you’ll follow orders?  You’ll stop fighting?”

            “Of course I’ll fight!”  Castiel moved forward, taking up a protective stance over the fish.  “I will guard this fish.  Our father has plans for it, and I will protect it.  Don’t worry,” he told the fish.  “I’m here.  And I won’t let anything harm you.”

            “Yeah, great, good for the fish.  Castiel, you have new orders now,” Gabriel explained quickly.  “Your orders are to come with me.  You have a new master now, and your new mission is to obey him.”

            “Of course, brother.”  Castiel didn’t move from his position over the fish.  “As soon as this fish accomplishes its purpose, I’ll be right along.  After all, my entire purpose is to serve!”

            Gabriel made a face.  “Maybe a bit too much this time.  Rest here, Castiel.  I’ll be back.”

            Castiel had waited.  Soon, the beach faded, washing back into the swirling galaxies. Alarmed, he looked for his fish. Then he realized how foolish that was. That fish had existed millions of years ago.  It had long ago served its purpose.  But now, what was his?

            “Alright,” said a voice that was familiar and yet somehow distorted.  “This should do it.”

            Once again, the pinprick.  Burning pain moved up his spine.  Castiel cried out, feeling everything shift once more.

            “Castiel?”

            At last.  The one voice Castiel longed above all others to hear.  The one he’d abandoned Heaven and his own reason for being to save.  “Dean,” he breathed.  “My Righteous Man.”

            Dean looked so beautiful.  His body almost seemed to glow, as though lit from within by his incredible soul.  For some reason, Castiel couldn’t see that soul now.  But it didn’t matter.  The glow around him was more than enough.  Just looking at it calmed him, soothed him and dulled his will to fight. And why wouldn’t it?  This was Dean.  That was the only thing that mattered.  He smiled.  “Hello, Dean,” he called.  “I’ve been waiting for you.  I knew you would come!”

            Dean looked strangely surprised.  “That so?  You weren’t expecting God or another angel?  You were waiting for...  For me? Why?”

            “Because you love me.”  Castiel suddenly couldn’t look Dean in the eye.  “And I think, maybe, I love you, too.  I think I loved you since I first saw you.  That’s why I couldn’t let you be condemned to Hell.  I couldn’t tell you before, but now?”

            “Now you’re not fighting anymore!”  Dean was smiling.  “All that time, all the effort to break your will, and all it took was Dean Winchester?”  Dean laughed.

            Castiel frowned in confusion.  “Dean?”

            “Ugh, no, that will never do,” Dean complained. “I cannot imagine anything that could kill my mood faster than that name.  Do not call me that again.  Call me Master, pet.”

            The confusion remained, but it was rapidly fading. Dean was here.  Bright, beautiful Dean had finally come to save him.  Now everything would be alright.  Castiel nodded.  “Of course, Master.”

            Dean seemed to shiver.  “Finally!  Alright, my pet.  It seems we’ve found the correct mixture.  Now, try to hold very still.  This is going to hurt.”

            It did hurt.  Castiel screamed as the blade sliced into his skin on his back near his spine.  He fought to obey, to hold still, but the world was fading.  Dean was gone.  The odd, dream-like world was gone.  Now it was only Magnus and unyielding restraints holding him to a workbench while Magnus calmly operated.  Magnus was humming as he worked.  “All done with step one!  Now, I’m going to unstrap you so I can turn you over.  Then it’s on to step two.”

            Castiel tried to fight, but the sigils robbed him of strength.  Magnus overpowered him easily, turning him, strapping him down onto his wounded back. Then Magnus was cutting into him again, this time low on his abdomen.  Castiel screamed as his flesh was torn and manipulated. 

            “There we are, my pet,” Magnus called.  “All finished.  Let’s sit you up a moment, shall we?”

            “What have you done to me?” Castiel groaned as Magnus loosened his restraints and helped him sit up.  “Where’s Dean?”

            “Now now, that’s not what you’re supposed to call him, is it?” Magnus reminded.  “What are you supposed to call him, pet?”

            “Master,” Castiel remembered.  He frowned, shaking his head.  “No.  Dean wouldn’t want me to...”

            Magnus rapidly chanted a familiar spell. Castiel gasped as his wings were forced into the physical plane and flushed in anger.  “Stop!”

            “Relax, my lovely.  It’s only to let you heal.”

            Castiel’s body was already mending, healing whatever it was that Magnus had done to him before he was able to throw off the spell and hide his wings once more.  Castiel looked down, frowning in confusion at the odd lump on his lower abdomen. “What...?  Get it out of me!  Get it out of me before I tear it out!”

            “Don’t be so dramatic,” Magnus chided as he pushed a resisting Castiel back down on the workbench.  “You can’t willfully hurt yourself any more than you can willfully hurt me.  And I suspect, now that your Grace is nicely back under wraps again, that you’ll start feeling the effects any minute now.”

            There it was.  The searing, burning pain was once again rising up his spine.  But this time, there was no needle.  Nothing was injecting the strange serum into him, yet the burning pain continued to spread.  Castiel struggled.  “Stop!”

            “Shh, just let it take you, pet,” Magnus urged. His hand stroked through Castiel’s sweat-dampened hair.  “Let it take you, and you’ll see your master again.  Don’t you want to see Master?”

            Master.  Dean. Yes, he wanted to see Dean again. Already, reality was warping and bending, changing into something else.  Castiel felt himself falling, felt his will to resist fade away as the familiar figure came into view.  “Dean,” he breathed.  “Master!”

            Dean was different now.  Before, he would stumble through his spells, the words falling from uncertain lips.  Now, he spoke the words of Castiel’s spells as though he’d been practicing magic all of his life.  Dean - Master - was different in other ways, too.  Master no longer hesitated to use all of the spells in Castiel’s book.  In fact, he seemed eager to use them, even the ones that Master used to call sickening.  That was alright.  Once, even doing those things with Master would have made Castiel uncomfortable. Now, he couldn’t quite remember the reason why.  Something about relations between humans and angels being forbidden?  It didn’t matter.  All Castiel had to do was look at the glow surrounding Master, and he no longer wished to fight.

            Master promised Castiel would enjoy it.  Castiel tried.  In the most secret heart of his being, Castiel had wanted to be like this with his Righteous Man.  He would have expected to want this to happen now.  But somehow, something held him back.  Castiel looked into Master’s eyes and wanted.  He looked at the glow around Master and it soothed him.  But still, he couldn’t let go, couldn’t just enjoy the things he did now with Master.

            It didn’t matter.  It wasn’t about Castiel anyway.  He was an angel.  He’d been created to serve.  Now he could serve as he was always meant to do.  It didn’t matter that every time Master touched him, something inside of Castiel screamed.  All that mattered was that Castiel serve his Master as he was ordered.  And he did.  He followed every order, be it to perform some task or to hold still while Master injected an odd bluish substance into the lump on his abdomen or to pleasure Master.  Whatever he was asked to do, he did.

            “Yes, Master.”

            “Of course, Master.”

            “Do I please you, Master?”

            “I’m sorry, Master.”

            “Thank you for punishing me, Master.  I’ll never be clumsy again.”

            The party was important to Master.  He took great pains with the appearance of both himself and Castiel.  Of course, Master could never look anything but perfect.  Almost perfect.  The now familiar glow about him couldn’t quite match the brilliance of Master’s soul. Why was that brilliance no longer there? Something was screaming inside of him again, something that made Castiel falter.  Just yesterday, that faltering had caused Castiel to accidentally spill Master’s drink.  Master had punished him, of course.  Nothing he hadn’t earned.  Castiel had hoped the punishment would quiet that screaming, make the part of himself that fought and railed and strained to break free be calm and quiet once more. But it seemed that wasn’t the case. He would have to be careful. Tonight, he needed to be on his best behavior.  He could do that.  For Master, Castiel would do anything.

            He’d done well.  Master was pleased with him.  He’d taken Castiel back to his spot in the library and kissed him as he’d chained him up.  “Let me finish, get everyone out, and put the spells back up,” Master had said.  “Then I’ll come back for you, pet.  I’ll reward you for your behavior tonight.”

            Castiel had basked in the praise, even as the screaming inside began anew.  When Master left, he picked up a book.  Reading sometimes helped calm him.  But tonight, he had trouble concentrating.  Something odd had happened at the party.  One of the waiters had brushed against him.  When Castiel had glanced at him, he’d seen something.  The man’s soul was blazing, brighter than anything Castiel had seen outside of... Of...

            Trying to remember made his head ache.  He’d pretended to dismiss the waiter, keeping his focus on his Master.  It had largely worked.  But now, as he waited and tried to read, his mind went again and again to the waiter. He longed for his Master to come. Master would make everything better. Sometimes, if Master left him alone too long, the screaming inside of Castiel became real.  Once he’d even gone into his true voice and had shattered several of Master’s glass display cases.  He’d been punished severely for that.  But at least after that, Master was careful not to leave him alone with just his thoughts for company.  As long as he had a book to read or something to focus his mind and Master didn’t stay away too long, Castiel was fine.

            When the door opened again, Castiel had looked up eagerly.  But it wasn’t Master.  It was something strange, an odd twin of Master.  There at last was that incredible soul that had first drawn Castiel’s attention.  But for some reason, this version of Master was without the familiar glow.  Without it, Castiel felt fear, doubt, uncertainty. No.  This was not Master.  But the man had come straight for Castiel.  He was stealing Castiel, taking him away from Master again!

            Castiel had fought as much as his restraints would allow.  He’d managed to trigger the defenses as he’d struggled, calling desperately for Master. But Master didn’t come.

            Then had come the command, and suddenly Master was here.  But oh, what was this?  Master had both the glow that calmed him and that incredible soul!  For the first time since Master had reclaimed him, Castiel didn’t hear the screaming from within.  Finally, he was completely, totally at peace.  He was happy to serve, happy to protect Master from the attacking monsters.  Master was grateful.  So was Castiel.  Now that the screaming had finally quieted, Castiel was finally able to freely show his affection for Master.  Kissing Master of his own will for the first time was wonderful.  But something was wrong.  Master was upset.  Master wasn’t pleased with him!

            They’d gone to the motel room and the most confusing experience in Castiel’s long existence.  Master kept changing.  The comforting glow always remained, but not that glorious soul.  And the screaming returned.  It wasn’t as loud as it had been before.  Once, the screaming was only slight, but the resistance was still there.  It was only when Master’s soul was visible once again that Castiel felt calm and still once more.  He’d been delighted when it was just him and Master together.  He’d been thrilled when Master wanted to be called Dean again. He’d tried to please Dean, let Dean know how much he meant.

            He’d failed.  Dean had left him, gone out.  And then had come the awful call.  Dean was gone.  And Castiel was inconsolable.  His shrieks shook the walls, shattered the glass in the window.  Shouts, figures rushing into the room.  The skinny werewolf grabbed his book, quickly recited a spell.  Castiel’s Grace surged, repaired the window.  And Dean was there once again.  Castiel calmed immediately.  Dean’s soul was once again missing.  Inside, he was still shrieking even louder now than he’d ever been.  But at least Dean was back now.  Dean was safe.  And that familiar glow immediately drove the fight out of Castiel.  Now he only wished that Dean would stay.  “Dean!” Castiel called as he embraced his master.  “I’m sorry!  I’m so glad you came back.  Please, don’t leave me again!”

            Dean’s face flushed.  He awkwardly patted Castiel’s back as he eyed his friends. “Someone else want to take this? Sammy, what do you say?”

            Sam gave him a thumbs up.  “You’re doing great, Garth.  Keep up the good work!”

            “Great.”  Dean sighed dejectedly.  “Dean’s going to kill me!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Magnus experiments on Castiel by injecting his spine with a mysterious substance. The substance causes Cas to hallucinate until he's seeing whoever commands him as Dean. Magnus surgically implants something into his abdomen to sustain this effect. Because he sees his "Master" as Dean, Cas doesn't fight, but inside part of him knows what is happening and is screaming. When it's really Dean, Cas recognizes his soul and the screaming stops. When Dean is taken, Cas screams in his true voice until Garth grabs his book and commands him. When Cas starts calling Garth Dean, the group finally understands what it is Cas is seeing.


	24. Mission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam's group has their work cut out for them

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for some slight medical. Not as bad as last chapter, but it's there. Bigger TW for rape aftermath.
> 
> Thanks again to MistyEyes73 for pointing out that SPN already had a "drug" that could produce the effects I needed!

            “Well, at least we know what he’s seeing,” Bobby mused as he watched the angel.

            “My brother,” Sammy agreed.  “I suppose I already knew, but this is clear proof, isn’t it?  Do you think that’s why he wouldn’t send Dean to Hell?  Because he fell in love with him?”

            “Maybe.”

            “Mon dieu,” Benny sighed.  “Magnus somehow used his feelings for Dean to get the angel to cooperate?  And he called us monsters!”

            “Would you please stop calling him the angel?” Garth snapped with uncharacteristic sharpness.  “He’s got a name, Benny!  He’s Castiel! Seeing as how you got him into this mess, the least you could do is acknowledge his name!”

            Benny seemed to cringe.  “Sorry, mon ami.  Sorry, Castiel.”

            “It’s alright.”  As always, Cas’s eyes were fixed on Garth.  It was clearly making Garth acutely uncomfortable.  Sam supposed he understood.  Bad enough that Cas was constantly clinging to him, hanging on Garth’s arm or clutching his hand.  Adoring eyes followed Garth everywhere.  When Garth had pried himself loose and gone to use the bathroom, Castiel had started panicking the instant Garth was out of his sight.  The angel had been pulling and struggling against his collar and chain, yelling for Dean at steadily increasing volume.  Sammy had little choice but to unlock Cas’s chain and let him barge into the bathroom to see for himself that Garth hadn’t been taken away.  The werewolf had been less than appreciative.

            “What do you think this is?” Garth asked, indicating the odd lump on Castiel’s abdomen.

            “I was wondering that myself,” Sam admitted. “With his shirt off, it was hard to miss, but I’ve never seen anything like it before.  Bobby?”

            “It’s new on me,” Bobby admitted.

            “Me, too,” Benny added.  “No kind of hex or bite mark I’ve ever seen, even in Purgatory.”

            Sam moved closer for a better look at the lump. It was mostly round, flat, and lying low on the angel’s muscular abdomen.  There was no scarring or anything to indicate how it came to be there. Castiel didn’t seem bothered by it. He just smiled at Garth, largely ignoring everyone else.

            Garth gingerly poked it.  “Does it hurt?”

            “No,” Cas said with a smile.  “I like it when you touch me.  Will we be making love later, Dean?”

            Garth turned pleading eyes to Sam.  “Oh my god, Sammy, you have got to take him!”

            “Nah, you’ve got this.  Keep up the good work, Garth!”

            “Come on, guys!  Bobby?  Benny, you can handle him!”

            Benny gave him a flat stare.  “No.”

            “What is it, Dean?” Cas asked, looking upset. “Why don’t you want me?  Don’t I please you?  I can do better!”

            Garth literally whined.

            “Focus, Garth,” Bobby called, completely unsympathetic. “If the angels have Dean, then we’re going to need Castiel to help us find him.  Now get a better feel for that thing.  What’s it feel like?”

            Garth grimaced and gingerly poked around the lump. He glanced up at Cas for any indication of pain, but Cas only smiled fondly at him.  It seemed the angel was happy for the attention.  Garth’s face flamed as he examined the lump.  “It’s, um, hard,” he reported.  “It kind of feels like metal or hard plastic?  Oh, that’s weird.  It almost feels like...  Well, it can’t be that.”

            “What?” Sam urged.  “Go ahead, Garth.  What does it feel like?”

            Garth rubbed at the back of his neck.  “Well, I had an aunt who had cancer.  It wasn’t operable and she was in a lot of pain. So the doctors implanted a pump into her belly that constantly injected pain medication right into her spine.  It was the only thing that worked.”  He frowned at Castiel.  “Castiel, do you remember this going in?”

            Castiel’s smile vanished.  “Yes.  I remember when Magnus cut into me.  Before that, there was something in my back that burned.  Then everything was strange.”  The smile returned.  “It doesn’t matter.”

            “Castiel, of course it matters!  Sam?”

            “I’m on it.”  Sam already had his laptop out and was doing a search.  In part of his mind, he was kicking himself.  This whole time, he’d assumed that whatever was wrong with Cas, it was some sort of spell.  He’d seen the lump on Cas’s abdomen and immediately believed it was a charm of some sort.  He’d never even considered the possibility of drugs!  “Here,” he called.  “This what you were talking about, Garth?”

            The others gathered to look over his shoulder. “It’s an implantable pain pump, like you said, Garth,” Sam explained.  “This round part is the pump, with the reservoir for the drug.  There’s a tube that travels under the skin and goes into the spine.  That’s how it works.  It injects medication right into the spinal canal and blocks the pain.  Very low doses can provide a lot of pain relief like that. Then, when the reservoir gets low, the doctor injects a needle into it and fills it back up.”

            “What kind of drug could do that to an angel?” Benny asked.  “Even with his powers locked down, he’s still got all of his resilience!  So how could any drug be effective?”

            “That’s a damned good question,” Bobby said. “But I think I know how to find out.”

            The older hunter got into his field kit. Among his medical supplies was a needle. “Garth, have him lie down and hold still.  Let’s see what’s in that pump.”

            Cas was happy to lie down so long as Garth held his hand.  Garth dutifully held both of his hands above his head as Bobby carefully inserted the needle into the lump and drew out some liquid.  The angel looked down when the needle went in, but otherwise seemed in no distress. It was everyone else who reacted when the solution in the reservoir came into view.

            “What the actual fuck?” Sam wondered.  “It’s blue!”

            “Let me see that.”  Benny took the needle and held it up to the light.  He sniffed at it and then handed it to Garth.  “That what I think it is?”

            The werewolf sniffed at the needle, putting his powerful sense of smell to use.  He frowned. “It’s diluted, but it smells like djinn!”

            “Djinn venom,” Bobby growled.  “That explains everything.  He must have mixed it with something, probably holy oil or something like that, to dilute it and reduce Castiel’s resistance to it.  Considering that this shit can put a human into a coma with just a touch, it wouldn’t have taken much at all to affect him.  Then he used the pump to keep injecting Castiel with a steady supply, not enough to put him into a coma, but enough to put him into a deep enough dream state to...”

            “...To make Cas believe whoever commanded him was the one person he cared the most about,” Sam finished.  “Dean.  Bobby, we have got to get that thing out of him!  How do we do that?”

            Three solemn faces looked back at him.  Sam swallowed hard.  “We have to cut into him, don’t we?”

            “No other way to get it out,” Bobby confirmed. “We need to get out the pump and pull the tube out of his spine, let him heal, and let the venom wear off.”

            “Can’t we just wait until it runs out?” Garth suggested nervously.  “Or empty the reservoir?”

            “It’s still going to have the venom in the pump,” Benny pointed out.  “We can’t completely empty the reservoir and it’s going to keep pumping into him.”

            “We also don’t know what else Magnus mixed with it, or what it will do to him the longer this goes on,” Bobby added.  “It’s gotta come out.”

            Sam cringed, looking at Castiel.  “We don’t have anything to numb the pain.”

            “No, we don’t.  And even if we did, it probably wouldn’t work on him.”  Bobby shook his head.  “We’re just going to have to do it quick.”

            “Oh my god.”  Sam thought he might be sick.  “Alright.  I’ll chain his hands behind his back.  Benny, Bobby, you hold him down.  Garth, until the venom wears off, he’ll still think you’re Dean, so try to help him through this.  Everyone hold him still, keep him as calm as possible.  And I’ll...”  He swallowed his bile.  “I’ll do it. Give me the sharpest blade we’ve got. Garth, once this is out, you need to command him to open his wings.  It’s another violation, but it’s the only way we can let him heal himself.  And maybe it will help dispel the venom.”

            It was the most horrible thing Sam had ever done to someone he cared about.  The blade was razor sharp.  He got the pump out as quickly as he could, carefully pulled the tube free, and nodded to Garth.  Then the ebony wings were out, and the terrible wound healed.  But perhaps worst of all, Castiel hadn’t done anything more than whimper.  The whole time, his eyes had stayed fixed on Garth, obeying “Dean’s” instructions to hold still and stay calm.  The amount of control Magnus had gained over the angel through such simple means was horrifying.

            But something changed in Cas’s face as he sat on the bed with his wings exposed.  Confusion clouded his features, followed by recognition.  He looked around, quickly tucking his wings away and making them vanish.  Then he jumped up, moving as far away from the group as his chain allowed.  “What is this?  I don’t understand.  What did you do to me?  Where’s Dean? What happened?”

            “Cas, calm down,” Sam called, raising his hands. “Magnus was using djinn venom to alter your mind.  But we got rid of it.  We don’t know how long you were getting pumped full of it, but it’s alright now.”

            “No!  It’s not alright!”  The angel shuddered.  He looked down at himself, eyes fixed on the now healed section of his abdomen where the pump had been.  Then he looked at the four men, his eyes lingering on each of their faces. “Where’s Dean?  He...  He’s been taken, hasn’t he?  But he was here, he was...”

            “I’m sorry, Castiel,” Garth said humbly.  “That was me.  The spell made you think I was Dean.”

            “But Dean, he...”  Horror and disgust were fighting for dominance on his face.  “We...  No. No, no, no.  No, no, no!  It was Dean, and he, we, I let him...!  No! NO!”

            Castiel was collapsing, dropping to his knees.  Garth quickly moved to him, but Cas pulled his bound hands to the side, holding up one to ward him off.  “No!  Don’t touch me!  Please don’t touch me!  I can’t stand it, please!”

            Garth quickly backed away, looking stricken. Castiel dropped to his side on the floor, curled up in the fetal position.  Sobs wracked his body, followed by retching as his stomach heaved.  Sam stood with his fists clenched, feeling helpless as he looked at the angel.  Guilt gnawed at him.  Why hadn’t he tried harder to get Cas back after Benny and Garth had taken him?  Why hadn’t he figured out the location of Magnus’s lair sooner?  Why hadn’t they just gotten a group of hunters together and simply assaulted the magician’s stronghold instead of waiting for the cover of the party?  But he hadn’t done anything.  They’d all insisted to Dean that they wait, play it safe. Dean would have assaulted the magician’s stronghold with everyone he could get.  Instead, Sam and the others had forced him to wait for their chance. And meanwhile, Magnus had kept Cas for over a week.

            Sam was only too aware of what the magician must have done to him.  All he needed to do was look at the spells in the book.  That Cas had been forced was bad enough.  That he hadn’t been able to fight back?  That he’d been under the influence of a dream state caused by djinn venom that made him believe the acts he’d been forced into were the loving actions of the man he loved?  Sam couldn’t imagine anything worse.  What Magnus had done was worse than rape.  With all his heart, Sam wished the magician was still alive, just so Sam could personally kill him again.

***

            Sam was sitting in the motel room with Benny and Garth.  All three of them were staring at a program they weren’t actually watching, lost in their own thoughts as they waited.  Bobby had stayed with Castiel.  The older hunter was doing his best to help the angel deal with his ordeal, but what could he do?  Cas's psyche had been battered beyond recognition.  Could he ever recover?

            Sam’s phone buzzed with a text.  Bobby, asking him to come over.  He bolted up and through the connecting door between the rooms, ignoring his startled friends, and burst into the other room.  “What’s wrong?  Cas!  I’m here!”

            He rushed to the angel, only stopping when he registered Cas flinching back.

            “Sam?” Bobby called quietly.  “He wants his hands free, but he doesn’t want me to touch him to do it.”

            “Oh!  Of course!” Sam accepted the key.  Being careful not to make any sudden moves, he gently unchained Cas’s hands.  Cas wouldn’t meet his eyes.  Sam shoved the chain into his pocket and considered the key.  “I can unchain you from the wall if you’d like?” he offered.

            “Yes, please.”

            Cas’s voice was soft, but it felt good to hear it. Sam unlocked the chain from the wall and handed it to Cas.  Cas gathered it up, wrapping it around himself the way he’d done at the bunker. Then he paused, tracing his fingers over the links.  He looked desperately unhappy.

            “Castiel?” Bobby said.  “Could you tell Sam what you told me?”

            Cas’s tongue flicked over his lips.  His eyes remained fixed on the floor.  “Zachariah has a place,” he began.  “The Green Room.  He can alter it at will, fill it with furniture, change the decorations, move or even remove entrances and exits.  It was created specifically to hold Dean.  To keep the Righteous Man safe until Michael takes him.  If Zachariah has taken him, then Dean is likely there now.”

            Sam breathed a sigh of relief.  But he frowned when he saw the expression on Bobby’s face.  “This isn’t going to be as easy as going there and kicking the door in, is it?  Is this room in Heaven?”

            Cas shook his head.  “It’s in a warehouse on Earth.  I can take you there.  But it’s going to be guarded.  Zachariah’s one mission is to obtain Dean for Michael.  He’s not going to give him up without a fight.  And I can’t fight!  Not like this.  And you can’t be involved,” Cas added.  For the first time, he looked up, seeing Sam’s expression.  “Sam, the angels have taken what they want.  Now the demons will be coming for you more than ever!  You can’t even set foot outside of the salt lines. They’re already outside!”

            Sam looked up in alarm.  He saw nothing too out of the ordinary.  People were milling around on the busy street.  Cars were passing.  With a sinking heart, Sam realized that anyone he saw could be a demon.  How could he know?  He couldn’t.  Only Cas could.  But the angel could only protect him for brief periods of time.  He was hampered by his restraints, his powers locked away. What could they do?  What could they possibly...?

            Sam Winchester, you are an idiot.

            “We need to free him,” Sam announced.  “It’s not optional anymore, and it’s not something we need to consider or discuss.  The only way that we’ve got any chance now is if we free Cas and he agrees to help us.  Will you?” Sam looked hard at Cas.  “I’m going to free you either way, Cas, I swear it.  And I know, ok?  I know that you have no reason whatsoever to want to help us.  After all we’ve put you through?  Everything you gave up for us?  I couldn’t blame you if you took off the second we got your collar off of you and never looked back.  But Cas? You are the only chance we’ve got. The only chance Dean’s got!”

            “Sammy, can I talk to you a moment, please?” Benny called anxiously.

            “Yeah, let’s talk about this,” Bobby agreed.

            “Talk about what?!” Garth snapped.  “The possibility that even if Castiel can save Dean, he might just take Dean himself and run?  Yeah, it crossed my mind, too.  And I dismissed it just as fast!  Do you know why?  Because he’s a good angel, that’s why!  This whole time, he is the only one who has consistently done nothing but good.  Every choice he’s made on his own has been completely unselfish. And honestly, if he takes Dean and runs? So what?  Dean loves him!  Maybe Dean deserves an extended honeymoon.  And before you say what you two are thinking?  Before you try to argue that Dean might not be given a choice? Think about how Castiel got himself into this position in the first place.  He went against Heaven, gave up everything and ended up in chains because he wanted Dean to have a choice.  So I’m sorry. I do not believe, not for one minute, that he’ll force Dean into anything now.  So go ahead, Sam!  Let’s free Castiel so he can help us.  And when Dean’s safe?  Then he and Castiel have a decision to make.  And no one else should have anything to say about it!”

            Bobby looked at Benny.

            Benny looked at Bobby.

            Sam held his breath, while Garth glowered at everyone over crossed arms.

            “Is it even possible to free me?” Cas asked quietly.  “I swear I won’t kidnap Dean, and I don’t know if I can fight my way to him alone. But freeing me, is that even possible?”

            Benny grunted.  “Bobby, did you get a chance to look over those books?”

            “A little bit,” Bobby said.  “And yeah.  That one we grabbed looks like what Magnus must have used to make those restraints. Chances are, it’ll have what we need to get them off.”

            Sam immediately went for the book, but Bobby grabbed his arm.  “I’ll work on that,” the older hunter ordered.  “There’s something else I want you to put those big brains of yours to use on. The other book, the one that told us about you and your brother.  I need you to look at that and find out if there’s really a way we can put an end to this whole apocalypse business.”

            “Actually, I can save you some time,” Benny called. “Because the answer to that is precisely why I did what I did and traded Castiel for those pages.  It’s true, Bobby, what I told you.  Magnus, above everything else, was a passionate collector, not just of artifacts but of knowledge. And while we all know a bit too much about what he used Castiel for, that wasn’t why he wanted an angel in the first place.  He took Castiel because he needed the touch of an angel’s hand to open this book.” The vampire moved to the bags, pulling out a familiar book.

            “That’s correct,” Cas agreed.  “It’s also how I saw so much of the book.  Magnus had to have me touch each page in order for it to be read.”

            “And the answer was right in the pages I traded him for,” Benn explained, looking apologetically at Cas.  “The answer to shutting up both Heaven and Hell for good is right here.  Two tablets, one for angels and one for demons.  They’re the ultimate authority on them, because they’re...”

            “The word of God,” Cas finished.  “Two stone tablets, inscribed with my Father’s words.  If we can find those tablets, and track down the prophet who can read them?  We can end this war before it begins!”

            “Then what are we waiting for?”  Bobby took the book from Benny and shoved it at Sam.  “We get back to the bunker, so we're going to have to do everything right here.  Sammy, you take Castiel and get to work on those tablets!  Benny, grab the tools and help me figure out how to get that shit off of Castiel.  Garth, go get us some beer.  We’ve got work to do, boys!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the device MistyEyes73 sent a link to, the one that Magnus implanted into Cas: https://www.medtronic.com/us-en/patients/treatments-therapies/drug-pump-chronic-pain/what-to-expect.html


	25. Free Will

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and the others work to free Cas and find the angel and demon tablets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Need to credit MistyEyes73 a bit more. It was her story, Elemental Falls (written under her Funtimewriter pseud), where Cas first tried to get on Dean's good side by complimenting him on his "shiny" car. That made me laugh so hard I started using it and never gave her credit. Sorry!

            During his unusual life, living on the road and being raised as a hunter, Sam Winchester had seen some truly amazing things.  He’d seen horrors that still haunted his nightmares.  He’d seen acts of selfless bravery and kindness that made his heart melt.  He’d seen things amazing and wonderful and terrifying.  But nothing he’d ever seen could compare to the moment Castiel was finally free.

            Magnus had done almost too good of a job.  The Enochian sigils and wardings on Castiel’s restraints were designed to thwart any effort to remove them.  Simply cutting through them with a blowtorch would result in a massive release of energy that would likely kill anyone nearby, human, angel, or otherwise.  The same would happen if the wardings were not destroyed in a specific order.  After a great deal of studying, swearing, arguing, throwing various objects, drinking, and studying some more, the hunters had finally succeeded in puzzling out the order they had to follow in order to break the wards.  Then it was a simple matter of taking a hammer and chisel they’d gotten from the puzzled motel maintenance man and destroying them.

            It was, without a doubt, the single most nerve-wracking thing Sam had ever done. He had the steadiest hands.  It hadn’t even been a question about who would do the actual work.  In exchange for some cash and some confused looks, they’d obtained some trigger clamps along with the hammer and chisel and a fresh case of beer.  Doing it had meant using the spell that granted Castiel the use of his weapon.  Angel blade casually held out of sight behind his trench coat, he’d stood outside the door, almost daring the demons to interfere with the maintenance man.  None had. The oblivious man had walked right past them, delivering their items and going on his way unmolested.

            Then it was a matter of putting Castiel onto the desk in the motel room, using the clamps to secure the restraint in question, and chiseling a line through each Enochian ward to break it.  Cas couldn’t have been more cooperative.  He’d held perfectly still, letting Sam adjust the manacle on his wrist into the clamps on his makeshift workbench.  “You’re the only one who can tell us for sure when the ward has been destroyed,” Sam explained.  “Soon as it’s gone, we’ll move on to the next one.”

            “Which will be on my collar.”

            “Yes.”  Sam couldn’t meet the angel’s eye as he tightened the clamps.  He was almost grateful to Magnus that he could start with one of the wards on Castiel’s manacle.  It would at least give him a feel for what he was doing.  He’d need that when it came time to wield the hammer and chisel on the angel’s collar while it was still locked snugly around Cas’s neck.

            Castiel was doing far better than Sam imagined he’d do, were their positions reversed.  But getting into that state of calm hadn't been easy for Cas.  The angel had taken one look at the desk with the waiting clamps and had turned around and walked through the connecting door back into the other room.  Sam had gone out to find him sitting just outside the door against the wall.  Cas’s eyes were closed.  His knees were drawn up to his chest.  His head was resting on his arms.  And he was shaking.  “Please just give me a moment,” he’d pleaded.  “I’ll come back in, let you do what you must.  It’s just, the desk, and the clamps?”

            “It looks like restraints,” Sam realized.  “And I guess it is.  We need to clamp your manacles and collar in place to work on them, which means we’re clamping you down.  And I didn’t even think of that!  I was only thinking about the best, safest way to get them off of you!  Cas, if you can’t do this, we can try...”

            “No. I can do it.  It’s just...”  He waved towards his stomach.  “Magnus restrained me to a work bench.  Strapped me down to operate on me.  It’s how he was able to put that pump into me, the one that made me think...?”

            Sam groaned.  “Cas, I’m so sorry!  What can I do?  Tell me how I can help you.”

            The angel looked up and actually smiled at Sam.  “You’re doing it.  You’re showing me that you care, that you’re not just trying to hurt or control me. And you know, it’s amazing.  My kind has always considered you the tainted one. Your soul, it’s stained with the demon blood that Azazel fed you as an infant.  There is a darkness in you, Sam Winchester.  Knowing that, and what you were destined to be?  During the few times I thought of you, I thought you’d be, well, that you wouldn’t have much of a heart.  But you do.  Dean may be a Righteous Man, but you?  You are a good man, Sam Winchester.”

            If Sam hadn’t felt anything for the angel before, he would have now.  He moved and sat down next to Cas.  “You’re my friend, Cas,” he said.  “I care about you.  I wanted to free you from the first moment I saw you.  I hope you understand that.  That I’m not just letting you go so you help me save my brother?”

            “I do.  And even now, when you must be sick at heart for your brother, your concern is for me.” Cas reached over and clasped Sam’s arm. “Thank you.  I’m ready now.”

            “Alright.”  Sam wanted to question the angel, make absolutely certain Cas was ready.  But he stayed quiet, respecting his friend’s decision. Even so, he couldn’t help but notice the slight hitch in Cas’s breathing when he lay down on the desk and Sam picked up the clamp.  “I won’t clamp you completely down,” Sam promised.  “Only what I’m working on.  And if you need loose, say the word.  I’ll let you go immediately.”

            That earned him another smile.

            Now the angel was still and quiet.  Serious, trusting eyes watched Sam as he carefully wielded the chisel and hammer.  The moment the line he was chiseling through the ward was complete, Cas gasped.  “It’s gone.”

            Sam nodded.  “Alright. Let me undo the clamps and we’ll move to the first one on the collar.”

            “Alright.”  Perfect trust.  Sam’s heart melted a little.

            It took time.  Selecting the ward and double-checking for accuracy.  Positioning each ward and securing the clamps.  Careful chiseling.  Once the last ward on the manacles was broken, Cas sat up and simply tore them free from his wrists.  The mangled metal had been tossed neatly into a corner.  Then he’d relaxed back onto the desk and stayed still, patiently waiting for the final wards to be removed from his collar.  The apparent ease with which Cas had pried off the metal restraints using only his fingers was a bit unnerving.  Even Sam had to admit that there was a part of him that questioned if this was really a good idea, to free this immensely powerful creature right in the motel room and then beg him for help after all they’d put him through. But Cas only waited.  And once the wards were destroyed and the clamps were undone, he got to his feet, reached up and tore the collar free as well.  The warped metal hit the floor with a loud clang that seemed to echo in the motel room.

            Castiel’s entire body seemed to glow.  His eyes shone brightly as his wings spread, wider and wider, filling up most of the room.  They didn’t seem to be the physical black-feathered wings Magnus’s spell had forced him to manifest.  Rather, they seemed somehow hidden, appearing as little more than shadows.  The angel was keeping his dignity intact, even as he embraced the return of his powers.

            Even so, the sight of Castiel at full power was amazing.  Sam had to remind himself to keep breathing.

            The three hunters had all unknowingly stepped back, instinctively clearing the path to the door.  They stared in awe, watching the angel until the glow finally faded and the wings vanished.  But Cas made no move towards the door.  He lifted his shirt, examining the sigil he’d gotten tattooed there.  “This seems adequate for hiding me from Heaven’s eyes,” he announced.  “But those demons obviously know where Sam is.”

            “Yeah,” Sam said, uneasy.  “Ae you going to, um, go all angel on them again?  How are we going to get back to the bunker?”

            Cas smiled.  Then he reached out and touched Sam.

            There was a sound like rustling feathers, and suddenly Sam was standing in the bunker.  He blinked and Garth was there, then Sam and Bobby.  And a moment later, Cas was there as well.  “I did have to smite a couple of demons,” he admitted.  “But they were on Dean’s shiny car.  It was the only way I could get them off.”

            “Oh, believe me, that idjit would be grateful,” Bobby growled.  “God help us if anything happened to his baby!”

            “I brought the other vehicles, too,” Cas added.  “But don’t worry.  The demons couldn’t follow me.”  He dropped the bags onto the map table.  “Here are all of the books and items from the motel room.  Shall we get back to work?”  He paused. “You did drink the last of the beer, though.  I would have thought the effects of alcohol on thinking would have impaired your research efforts, but it seemed the opposite was true.  That seemed to be an important component to your work.  Will it be a problem?”

            “I’ll go out and buy more,” Garth offered.  “Problem solved.”

            Sam smiled.  “You do that, Garth.  Cas?  Thank you.  We wouldn’t have even gotten this far without you.  Now we’ve got some real hope!”

            “For what it’s worth?” Benny said.  “I’m sorry, Castiel.  S'il vous plaît, pardonnez-moi?”

            “I understand why you did what you did,” Cas said carefully.

            It wasn’t acceptance or forgiveness.  Still, Benny nodded.  “I’ll settle for that.  It’s more than I deserve.”

            Sam hadn’t missed the guilt in the vampire’s eyes and voice when Benny spoke. He just hoped Benny wouldn’t do anything too brash.

            In the safety of the bunker, surrounded by reference books, the work went faster.  It also helped that Cas could assist with the translations.  But there wasn’t much to celebrate.  “So this prophet who can read these tablets,” Garth asked.  “He won’t know he’s a prophet until we uncover the angel or demon tablet?”

            “That’s correct,” Cas confirmed.  “The names of every living prophet are in the minds of the angels, but this one is different, special.  Normally, prophets are activated when the previous one dies. But in this case, this prophet isn’t on the list because he, or she, won’t become active until one of the tablets is uncovered.”

            “And do we have any idea where these tablets are?” Benny wanted to know.

            “Actually, yes,” Sam said.  He indicated one of the books.  “The coordinates are there.  But it’s not going to be easy to get to them.  There’s some traveling involved, and a little bit of archeology.  Looks like you’re actually going to have to dig for at least one of them.”

            “Never is easy.  Great. Alright, Garth, you and I get to go for the tablets.”

            “On it!”

            “And I’ll find this prophet,” Bobby said.  “What’s his name?”

            “We won’t know until we find the first tablet.  That’s when he’ll activate.  Until then, he won’t even know himself.”

            “Balls!  Well in that case, I’ll join Sam and Castiel going after Dean.”  He turned to Cas.  “Ok, angel boy, you’re up.  Tell us where this Zach asshole is keeping Dean.”

            “The Green Room,” Cas began.  “Its physical location on Earth is an abandoned factory in Van Nuys, California. I can take us there easily enough. But the location will be guarded. Multiple angels, as powerful or more than I am.  I can take care of the angels guarding the place.  Then you’ll have to get in and get Dean away from Zachariah.  I won’t be able to help you there.”

            “Why not?” Sam asked, alarmed.  “Cas, what are you going to do?”

            “There will be multiple guards,” Cas warned.  “I won’t be able to fight them all, and I don’t intend to.  The best and easiest way to do this is to get them all on me and then banish them.  But banishing them will banish me as well.  You’ll have to get Dean out on your own.”

            “I do not like the sound of that,” Bobby growled.

            “Doesn’t sound like we’ll have a choice in the matter!” Sam exclaimed.  “Cas, teach me this spell, to banish angels. We might need it to use on Zachariah.”

            “It’s not a spell,” Cas warned.  “It’s a sigil.  And it has to be drawn in blood.”

            “Then how are you...  Oh.” Sam eyed the angel blade in Cas’s hand and shuddered.  “Ok.  Show me anyway.  I’ll save it for a last resort, but I’ll use it if I have to.”

            “Of course.”

            Sam was eyeing Cas.  Despite the seriousness of their conversation, he could sense that the angel’s attention wasn’t fully in it.  His eyes constantly seemed to look off into space.  “What is it?” Sam asked finally.

            “Dean,” Cas admitted.  “He’s praying to me.”

            That got everyone’s attention.  “Dean ok?” Bobby wanted to know.

            “No,” Cas replied immediately.  “Zachariah is trying to force him to say yes to Michael.  Understand, Zachariah is a powerful angel.  He can torture Dean with very little effort.  Dean is suffering like he’s never suffered before, and there is no escape.  Even if Zachariah goes too far and kills him, he can simply bring Dean back.”

            “Wait, this guy is an angel, and he’s doing this?!”  Garth was wide-eyed and shocked.

            Cas looked at him.  “Yes. We need to move quickly.  Dean may be in the hands of an angel, but right now he is going through hell.  I don’t know how much longer he can last.”

            Benny growled low in his throat.  “It must be bad, if that stubborn son of a bitch is praying to you to help him.”

            But Cas was shaking his head.  “Dean isn’t praying to me to help him.  It’s the opposite.  That is how I know we have to move quickly to rescue him.”

***

            Pain.  Unending, unbearable pain.  Dean’s throat was already raw from screaming.  Now only air was escaping instead of sound.  His entire body was alive with pain.  His nerves crackled with it.

            The beautiful room that Dean had first been brought to was gone.  In its place was a dimly lit bar.  Zachariah, jacket off and tie loosened, was seated at one of the bar stools having a drink.  "You know, I have always been a good and faithful servant,” he was saying.  “I’ve worked hard.  And I’ve excelled, Dean.  Every task I was ever given, I completed.  My record is spotless.  That’s why I was assigned to this job.  Because I’m the guy you turn to if you want it done right.  I have never, in all my existence, reported a failure.  Until now.”

            Dean gasped, trying desperately to catch his breath.  His muscles seized uncontrollably.  His body thrashed, desperately seeking an escape from the pain and not finding one.

            “One job,” Zachariah sighed.  “I was given one job here, Dean.  All I had to do was keep you safe and prepare you for Michael.  But you stubbornly refuse to say yes!  And now look at you!”  The angel glanced disdainfully at the human writhing in the corner.  “Lying over there, covered in your own blood and vomit and filth.  And still, still you refuse to say yes!  One little word.  Just one. Say it, and this is all over!  But you?”  He shook his finger at Dean.  “You simply will not do it.”

            Dean’s vision wavered as he looked over at the irritated angel.  He brought up one shaking hand, clenched into a fist.  His middle finger went up.

            Zachariah chuckled.  Then he gestured.  There was a snap and Dean’s finger suddenly had an extra joint.  “See, this is what I mean.  And the only thing worse than being stuck in here with you right now? The only thing that disgusts me more than the sight and smell of you?  The idea that an angel, a garrison captain no less, let himself fall for you.  For you!  One more ape among billions, perhaps the most infuriating one alive.  You are the one he fell for?”  He shook his head.  “I will find Castiel, Dean.  And when I do?  The pain you're feeling now won’t even compare to what I’ll do to him.  I will vent all of my frustration, all of this that you’ve put me through, on him.  And I. Cannot.  Wait!”

            Dean’s tortured throat managed a small whimper.  He closed his eyes, trying to breathe through the pain.  Don’t come, Cas! he prayed frantically.  No matter what, you can’t come here. Please, Cas.  Don’t come!


	26. Make It Better

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel is determined to pay any price to save Dean. Bobby has an idea.

            Dean was near.  More than the presence of the guards at the factory, it was the expression on Cas’s face that told Sam for certain that they were in the right place.

            For two days, they’d been on the road, stopping only long enough to grab a bite to eat, the occasional pit stop, and for Sam and Bobby to catch a few hours’ sleep.  The entire trip, the angel had said very little.  The reality was that simply flying them out to the factory or even near it risked exposure.  What Cas had already done was already too much, especially the demons he’d left dead outside the motel.  The discovery of bodies with their eyes burned out had drawn the attention of more than human law enforcement.

            When left to work of his own free will, Cas was extremely useful.  He’d helped add wards to both the bunker and Dean’s baby that would help hide them from other angels.  He’d worked diligently, serving as advisor, navigator, night watchman, whatever happened to be needed.  Even though the wow factor was starting to wear off as Sam got used to the idea of this powerful being traveling with them, Castiel’s otherness couldn’t be denied. It was more than his manner of speaking. It was something beyond how he never seemed to catch references or completely misunderstood cultural norms. It wasn’t just the odd way he’d cock his head and squint when he was thinking hard about something.  Cas simply didn’t handle emotions the way a human did.  In fact, to a casual observer, it didn’t seem the angel even possessed them.  Cas never laughed.  A smile was usually something he pasted on in response to another human smiling at him and looked mostly creepy.  But he didn’t fall apart, either.  He hadn’t shed a tear or shown any fear since they’d freed him.  Castiel at full power, it seemed, was Castiel strong and stoic.

            But Sam watched him every chance he got.  And in those quiet moments when the angel was unaware he was being observed, his eyes told a very different story. Looking into the rich blue orbs when Cas let his guard down was like peering into the depths of the ocean. His emotions were there, buried deep beneath the waves like sunken treasures.  They were all there.  Even with Bobby and Sam right with him, Cas was alone.  Cut off from his own kind.  Lost and afraid.  But Sam didn’t need his psychic powers to understand that the angel’s fear wasn’t for himself.  There was a longing in those eyes, a sadness, a yearning that was all too human. Castiel had given up everything for a single human.  Now whatever angels had in place of souls was crying out for Dean.

            Watching Castiel had proven to be a barometer into his brother’s condition.  Neither Sam or Bobby dared to voice the question.  They didn’t have to.  Over and over again, both men saw the angel grow still.  Cas had a human face, and humans listened with their eyes.  Every time Cas’s eyes grew distant, staring beyond at something just out of sight, they knew.

            “Dean’s still praying to him,” Bobby grumbled to Sam after they’d stopped for what they expected to be their final break. “That’s good.  Means Dean’s still fighting.”

            “I’m not so sure.”  Cas, with no need for food or bathroom breaks, was waiting outside at the Impala.  Once again, he was standing still, his face turned to the west.  His entire posture was that of someone listening.  Sam frowned as he watched the angel.  “It’s obvious that Dean’s praying, but what Cas said before?  About Dean doing the opposite of asking for help?”

            “Yeah, I know.”  The older hunter frowned down at his plate.  “We both agree that probably means Dean’s telling him to stay away. And we’ve all seen just how willing Cas is to obey!  Now he’s not chained and collared and being forced, he doesn’t even acknowledge instructions he doesn’t want to hear.”

            “I noticed,” Sam said dryly.  “Still, it’s nice to see how much he’s regained of his self-confidence.”

            “It’s not self-confidence, Sammy.  It’s martyrdom!  He won’t listen to anything that might go against him saving Dean because that’s all he cares about.  That feathered idjit has already proven he’s more than willing to throw his own life away for Dean.”  He eyed the angel.  “You think he’d be fool enough to willingly walk into a trap?”

            “I think it’s very possible,” Sam admitted. “But at the same time, remember what Dean said Zach told him?  The angels don’t care about Castiel anymore.  All they want is Dean.”

            “And you.  At least one former angel does.”

            Sam couldn’t suppress a shudder.  “My point is, even if they have figured out Cas is back to full power, and with what he did at the motel we all know that’s a big possibility?  Would Zach even care?  He tried to get Cas to join up with him, and then called the Enforcers on him when Cas refused.  He stood there in that crowd and watched what they did to him, Bobby.  That, to me, says that Zach doesn’t consider Castiel any real threat.  If he had, why wouldn’t he have just killed him when he had the chance?”

            “Let’s hope you’re right,” Bobby said.  “Because Dean’s angel is the only real chance we’ve got. Once we get your brother back, we’re going to need Cas to help us with the rest of it.”

            “One thing at a time,” Sam urged.  “First, let’s focus on getting Dean back. Because that’s the part I’m worried about.  This is going to end up with you and me facing off against a pissed-off angel determined to do whatever it takes to force Dean to say yes to Michael.  If Cas uses this banishing sigil?  It’s going to hurt him just as much as the other angels.  He’ll be banished right along with the rest of them! And since he’s planning to carve it right into his own chest, wouldn’t that hurt Cas even more?”

            “Probably.”

            “So that means, wherever he lands, he’ll be hurt, alone, and vulnerable!”  Sam shook his head.  “I don’t like this plan.  We need another one.  Because my concerns for him aside?  What are we supposed to do if Cas blasts himself and the angel guards away, we charge in after Dean, and Zach shows up in this green room, ready to pounce on us all?” He pounded a fist on the table. “We aren’t going to have any way to fight him, Bobby!  And considering what he was willing to do to a fellow angel?  I have no doubt that Zach is going to be quick to use us to try to force Dean to accept Michael.  And the only thing we have that’s even remotely capable of dealing with Zachariah is Castiel!  We need Cas with us when we go in to find Dean, not blasted somewhere halfway across the continent.  But how else are we going to get rid of the guards?  I would carve this banishing sigil into my own chest in a heartbeat, but what’s the point if it’s going to blast Cas, too?  Damn it, Bobby!  What are we going to do?  How can we get rid of the guards and still hold on to Cas?”

            Bobby suddenly went quiet.

            Sam narrowed his eyes.  “Bobby?  Do you know something I don’t?”

            “All I’ll say is that Dean Winchester’s angel is probably the first being I’ve ever met that’s a bigger idjit than Dean himself,” Bobby declared.  “But I owe Castiel a debt after what I allowed to happen to him.  And I never forget a debt.”

            “Bobby, what are you talking about?  You’re not making any sense!”

            “I may be getting old, Sam Winchester, but I ain’t senile yet.  So how about you trust me when I tell you that I already thought of that, and I already have an idea?”

            “Alright.”  Sam was mystified.  “Do I get a hint?”

            “You any good at following orders, or do you just shoot your mouth?”

            “I can follow orders!” Sam replied, stung.

            “Then follow ‘em.  When the time comes, you do exactly what I say the moment I say it. Because there was one thing that Cas brought along, probably without knowing it, when he angeled us and everything else back to the bunker.  A little something that he probably wouldn’t want anywhere near him if he knew about it. But now I got it.  And believe me when I tell you, we are not going in alone to face Zachariah.”

            Sam stared at him, confused.  Then suddenly the pieces clicked into place in his mind. He groaned.  “Bobby, you wily old fox you!”

            Bobby’s face split into an impish grin.  “Shut up and eat.  We gotta get this show on the road.”

            “Yes, sir!”  Sam dug in.  His eyes once more drifted to the window, to the silent sentinel of the angel outside. “You think they can make it?”

            “Hmm?”

            “Dean and Cas.  They’ve both proven they’re willing to do almost anything for each other. But I don’t think they’ve ever actually had a single conversation yet about how they really feel.  Not one where Cas wasn’t under the influence of djinn venom, anyway.”

            “Your brother ain’t exactly known for chatting about his feelings.”

            “Not really, no.  Given the choice, I think Dean would rather listen to a two-hour recording of nails on chalkboard than talk about his feelings.”

            “If that’s the case, those two don’t stand a snowball’s chance in Hell.”

            That ruined Sam’s appetite even more than the thought of the upcoming fight.  Somehow, he managed to force himself to finish.  But when they headed back out to the car, he found he couldn’t look Cas in the eye.

***

            The soul of the Righteous Man called to Castiel just as Dean’s prayers did.  Over and over, Dean pleaded with him to stay away, don’t come, please, Cas, stay back and protect Sammy!  But that soul.  That beautiful soul.  Even though he couldn’t directly sense it?  Even though the runes that Castiel himself had carved into Dean’s ribs hid him, the angel could picture it.  Humans spoke of seeing things in their dreams.  Castiel’s only practical experience with dreams of his own had come from Magnus, from the visions fueled by the djinn venom the magician had been pumping into him.  But he thought he understood all the same.  He could picture that bright soul so easily.

            But what must Dean think of him?  Castiel, all inhibitions removed, had been unable to be anything but truthful with Dean that last night.  He’d thrown himself at Dean.  He’d debased, humiliated himself.  He’d told Dean how he felt.  And for one brief instant, he’d been certain that Dean felt the same. Castiel had wanted to please Dean. He’d wanted to show Dean how he’d felt, how much the hunter affected him.  But he had no experience with human emotions.  All he’d known had been what Magnus and those who had owned him had forced him.  Dean didn’t want that.  What did Dean want?  How could he know?  Simple. He’d let Dean tell him what it was he’d wanted from Castiel.

            Castiel had asked.  Dean had fled.  And then he’d been taken away, and Castiel’s chance was gone.  Now what could he say?  Would Dean even want to see him now?  Probably not. After all, the things Castiel had been thinking of that night were in line with the spells in his book.  Dean himself had called those spells disgusting. Of course.  No wonder he’d run away.  Dean thought Castiel was disgusting.  How could he even look at Castiel now?  No.  It was better this way.  Castiel could remove the guards and himself.  He could clear the way for Dean’s friends.

            Zachariah would be a problem.  The green room would shield him from the banishing sigil.  But Castiel had a plan.  In his pocket he carried a box cutter he’d picked up at the bunker. He would leave his angel blade for one of the humans, probably Sam.  And then it would be up to the hunters to find a way to defeat Zachariah and save Dean. Meanwhile, he had no idea what would happen to him.  Most likely he’d be tracked down quickly.  He’d be captured, possibly killed or maybe even forced back into slavery to humans.  If Zachariah survived, Castiel had no doubt that would happen.  He’d simply enjoyed Castiel’s pain and humiliation too much to do anything else.  Castiel would go back in chains, back to being nothing more than a warm hole for one brutal master after another for the rest of his miserable existence.  And this time, Dean wouldn’t come to rescue him.

            It didn’t matter.  The only thing that mattered was saving Dean, preventing Michael from taking him, and stopping the apocalypse.

            The moment the three snuck in sight of the factory, Castiel could see the angels guarding it.  “Alright,” he began, drawing the box cutter.  “I’ll go in alone first.  Once I banish the guards, it will be up to the two of you to rescue Dean. Now be aware.  If Zachariah is in the room with Dean, and he probably is, he won’t be affected by the banishing sigil.  You’ll have to...”  He stopped, tilting his head and frowning in confusion.  “What are you doing?”

            “What’s it look like we’re doing?” Bobby growled through gritted teeth.  “Sorry I let Benny sell you back to Magnus, Castiel.  Hopefully, this makes up for it a bit.  Cut faster, Sammy!  This hurts!”

            “I’m not really enjoying it either, Bobby.” The Winchester looked a bit green. He’d taken a sharp blade and was busy carving shallow lines into the other hunter’s chest.

            Castiel shook his head.  “It’s pointless to hurt yourselves.  If I do this, I can gather all of the angels around me and banish them all at once.”

            “Then we can, too,” Bobby retorted.  “Now shut up and make sure Sammy’s doing this right!”

            Castiel shut up and focused on the task of overseeing Sam’s work.  It made little sense to him.  But one look at the determined faces of the two humans made it clear that there was little point in debate.

            Finally, it was done.  Bobby, still shaking, carefully closed his jacket over his bloody chest.  He looked at Castiel and nodded.  “Alright. Let’s get this party started.  You just stay close, you hear?”

            “Of course.”  It still made no sense, but it did no harm to indulge the hunters.

            Castiel drew his angel blade.  He carefully snuck up behind the first guard and stabbed him. Grace flared, and a body fell to the ground.  Castiel felt a moment of sickening guilt.  He’d just killed one of his own kind.  Worse, it was an angel he knew well.  Uriel, the funniest angel in the garrison, now lay dead at his feet. Necessary.  He’d have the rest of his existence to atone for it.  Now, the only thing that mattered was saving Dean. “Come with me, quickly!” he called. “The others will know we’re here.”

            They did.  Castiel soon found himself surrounded.  Angel blades gleamed in the dim light.  He moved quickly, doing his best to shield the humans.  “If you are going to act?” he murmured quietly to them. “I believe now would be the appropriate time.  I’ll make sure to drop my blade when I go.  You’ll need it.”

            “We’ll need a hell of a lot more than your fancy steak knife,” Bobby growled.  “Sammy!  Now!”

            Suddenly Sam Winchester was tackling him. Surprised, Castiel went down. Sam’s long arms were wrapped tightly around him.  The hunter was pressing something against his chest, what was it?  Didn’t matter.  Bobby was standing over them, throwing back his coat to slap his palm against his bloody chest and activate the banishing sigil.

            Castiel quickly let go of his blade and braced for impact.  But nothing happened.  All around him, light blazed and angels screamed.  Then they were gone.  And he was still lying on the floor, pinned down by Sam’s body.  “Cas!” the younger hunter was calling.  “You ok?  Say something!”

            “I am unharmed.  But I’ll admit that I don’t understand why that is.”  Castiel was pushing himself up, raising up with Sam still draped over him.  “How did you...”

            Then he saw it.  Clutched tightly in Sam’s hand, still pressed against Castiel’s chest, was a familiar leather-bound book.  The sight of it made the angel freeze.  “You...  You used that to...!”

            “Magnus’s spell book was warded against the runes on your restraints,” Sam reminded, getting off of Castiel.  “It protected him from the effects so he could touch you and still use his magic on you.  You couldn’t touch it because of the restraints.  But you’re not restrained anymore, Cas!  You can touch this book now.  I used it to protect you from the banishing sigil.”

            “It can’t hurt you anymore,” Bobby explained gently.  “But it can help you!”

            “Here.”  Sam was offering the book.  The awful, horrible book that so many had used to control him, to twist his Grace and force him, even if for only a short time, to submit to their will.

            Castiel could only stare, but Sam was insistent.  “Take it, Cas,” he urged.  “I know that, for you?  This book must contain nothing but horrible memories.  It’s bad.  Everything about why it was created and what it was used for is bad.  But this is your chance to take it all and make it better. Don’t you see, Cas?  As long as you’re carrying this book, no one can ever use another Enochian ward to control you again.  This book was part of your enslavement, but now?  Now, it’s your key to freedom!”

            His key to freedom.  This book. This horrible, filthy, disgusting, degrading thing.  Castiel somehow managed to close his hand around the book.  He could feel it, the tingle of magic that it held, faint and steady, yet powerful.  With this book, no one could ever enslave him again.  He was free.

            He was free.

            He clutched the book to his chest and took a deep breath.  “Thank you,” he managed.  “Thank you so much.”

            “You’re welcome.”  Bobby’s voice sounded oddly gruff.  “Now how about you put that into your pocket somewhere and get that blade ready?  We got a fight ahead of us!”


	27. Price Paid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean is determined to resist Zachariah, but he's surprised at the angel's new tactic

            Dean had no idea how long he’d been trapped in this room.  It seemed like weeks or months had gone by.  Pain destroyed all sense of time.  Zachariah wouldn’t let him sleep.  He’d offered Dean his favorite brand of ice cold beer, and the best cheeseburgers that he’d ever eaten. But Dean didn’t trust anything the angel had offered him to eat or drink.  He may have had nothing more than a high school education, but he was well versed in supernatural lore.  When he’d mentioned Persephone and the pomegranate seeds, Zach had only laughed. The angel had assured Dean that he wouldn’t be trapped there for eating or drinking anything.  He even admitted that this was primarily because Dean was trapped no matter what until he agreed to accept Michael.  But Dean still didn’t trust him.  He couldn’t be sure Zach wouldn’t slip him something that would weaken his resistance.  No matter what, he had to resist.  After a while, he’d stopped feeling his hunger.  But thirst was its own form of torture.  Dean spent what felt like an eternity writhing on the floor in agony, his throat raw from screaming, parched, watching Zach help himself from the bar. And still, he refused to say yes. He stayed strong.  And over and over, he prayed for Cas to stay away.

            Zach was starting to run out of ideas.  He’d resorted to screaming threats at Dean as Dean writhed.  He’d promised every horror to everyone Dean had ever known, but he saved the worst of his threats for Sammy and Cas.  “I will hand your brother over to Lucifer,” Zach warned, “with his mind utterly shattered! I will personally tie a big blue ribbon in a giant bow around his neck and leave him as a present at the gates of Hell.  But your precious Castiel?  Oh, Dean, you think what Magnus did, what the Enforcers did?  You think that was bad?  You have no idea!  I will rip him out of that meatsuit and make him scream like he’s never screamed before! I will break him until the only thing he knows how to do is obey.  I’ll finish what Magnus started, Dean.  I will make your angel into the perfect sex slave.  And then, Dean?  Then I’ll drop him off at the gates of Hell, too.  Lucifer will be able to enjoy his tight, hot hole, while wearing your brother’s body!”

            Everything in Dean wanted to cry out against it. His lips opened, the word “yes” resting on the tip of his tongue.  How could he let any of that happen?  It wasn’t worth it.  He wasn’t worth it.  Let Michael have him.  At least then, his friends would have a chance.  They were resourceful.  They could survive the coming apocalypse, keep Sammy safe...

            “What’s that Dean?”  Zachariah was on his hands and knees, leaning hopefully towards Dean with a cupped ear.  “Do you have something you want to say to me?”

            “I wanted to say... that if you could have done any of that?  You would have done it by now,” Dean whispered.  “You followed Cas after Magnus took him, and that’s how you found me. But once you had me, you stopped following, didn’t you?  You lost him. Thanks to that shit around his neck, you have no idea where he is.  And after he carved runes into Sammy, you can’t see him, either!  You have no fucking clue where either one of them is. So why don’t you take your threats? And shove them right up your holy ass!”

            Once more, agony flared through Dean’s nerves.

            It was alright.  He could handle it.  He could resist.  For Sammy, and for Cas, he could take whatever this bald overweight piece of shit could throw his way.  He’d never say yes.  And as desperate as Zach was getting, it couldn’t go on much longer.  Dean clung to the hope that Michael would eventually get tired of waiting.  Maybe he would just smite the both of them and pick some other poor sap to be his vessel? Dean had no intention of taking the job.

            This was new, though.  The pain abruptly ceased, leaving his nerves sizzling and his muscles jumping.  And three people were walking into the bar.  Dean had heard multiple threats towards his brother and his friends.  But now they seemed to be here in the room. Different.  Stupid, but different.  Dean was already all too aware that the room could manifest anything Zach desired.  He’d already turned it from a beautiful room to a dingy bar, complete with bar stools and cheap booze.  So it was hardly surprising to discover Zach could holodeck up some illusions of the people Dean most wanted to see.  And the illusions were good, very good.  If it was just Sammy and Bobby, Dean might have even believed it for a moment.  But the real versions would never have brought along Cas.

            Cas.  Whatever this was, it was a damned good representation.  He was back in his trench coat, this time over a nerdy suit and tie that made him look like an insurance salesman.  But he had to be the sexiest insurance salesman Dean had ever seen. That sex hair was back.  He had his angel blade in his hand, and a furious blue-white light in his eyes.  The color was up in his cheeks as he looked at Dean.  Then those eyes moved to Zach.  Dean chuckled.  “Nice, Zach! Very nice.  Too bad you fucked up.  Look at him!  No chains, no leash, he doesn’t even have his collar or the manacles!  Sammy wouldn’t be stupid enough to bring my angel here in the first place.  He sure as hell wouldn’t be loose!”

            “Dean!”  Sammy looked horrified.  “Zachariah, what did you do to my brother?!”

            “Oh, goody, it’s you, and look who got rid of his pretty jewelry!”  Zach finished his latest drink and threw the glass to shatter against the wall. “Castiel, I am positively delighted to see you.”

            Cas moved so that he was between Zach and Sammy and Bobby.  “Go see to Dean,” he ordered.  “I’ll deal with Zachariah.”

            That voice.  That low, scratchy, sexy as fuck voice.  Dean shivered.  “Oh, that is good, Zach!  Sounds just like the real thing.”

            “Dean!”

            The fake version of Sammy was here now, rolling Dean over onto his back.  Dean looked up into hazel eyes that exactly matched his brother.  And those big hands.  And that expression.  And that hair.  If he didn’t know any better, he would swear this was Sammy.  But what was that smell?  Dean blinked, looking from Sammy to Bobby and back.  Bobby’s chest, exposed through his jacket, was a charred, bloody mess.

            “Angel banishing sigil,” Bobby explained.  He knelt down beside Dean, helping Sammy get him to a seated position.  “Unfortunately, it only works once.”

            “I’ll carve it into myself if I have to!” Sammy vowed.

            “It’s an option, but I’m here to tell you it’s not a good one,” Bobby groaned.  “Now I’ve got cuts and burns and probably won’t be much use in a fight.  Let’s hold off unless it’s a last resort. Besides.”  He jerked his head towards the two angels.  “I think maybe Castiel and this guy here just might have something to say to each other.”

            Dean was growing more and more confused. Nothing that was happening was making any sense.  This felt like some sort of half-assed rescue operation, put together with strings and duct tape and prayers at the last second and most likely doomed to fail. In other words, it felt exactly like something Dean and his friends would do.  Dean could easily see Bobby being stupid enough to carve some sort of sigil into his chest to try to banish angels.  Now the older hunter couldn’t hide the pain he was in.  And Sammy was doing this awkward attempt to comfort Dean and Bobby while simultaneously keeping guard over them.  He was carrying Dean’s favorite sawed-off.  Good choice.  Wouldn’t work against Zach and his dick angels, but load it with buck shot and it might slow him down a little.  But something else wasn’t making sense.  It finally hit Dean, and he chuckled.  “Your boss is an idiot,” he told fake Sammy and Bobby.  “If Bobby used a sigil to banish angels, then Cas would have been banished, too!  Oh my god, how can you guys be millions of years old and make such childish mistakes?”

            Fake Sammy and Bobby were looking at each other now.  Fake Sammy was saying something, trying to convince him it was real.  Dean wasn’t listening.  His eyes were on fake Cas as he stood, waiting for Zach to get to his feet.

            “Well!  You look a little better than you did the last time I saw you,” Zach began.  “Of course, the last time I saw you, you were naked, strapped into a rack and being used and whipped by some of those apes you’re suddenly so fond of.  They seemed to be enjoying themselves.  Maybe you’ve finally found your place?”

            Dean thought of about half a dozen witty responses to that.  But fake Cas didn’t say a word.  His only response was to raise his angel blade.

            Zach looked at the blade.  He rolled his eyes.  Then he made a slight gesture.  Fake Cas went flying as though blasted from a cannon.  His body smashed into the far wall, leaving a nasty dent. But the furious eyes never moved from Zach’s face.  Lips curled into a snarl, Cas pulled away from the wall, stalking towards Zach again. He too gestured with one hand. Suddenly, every bottle on the shelves was flying at Zach.

            Dean had to hand it to Zach.  He was really playing up his role.  He actually did look furious.  One hand wiped alcohol and broken glass off of his face.  The other pointed accusingly at Castiel.  Once again, Castiel went sailing into the wall. “You failure!” Zach yelled.  “You turned your back on us, and for what?  For that stupid ape?  For one single soul among billions!  And now you dare to attack me?!”

            Oh, this was rich.  Fake Cas dared, alright.  He was fighting back.  He was struggling to resist Zach’s power just as much as he’d always fought Magnus’s spells. And step after painful step, Cas was moving forward.  Light blazed. Winds whipped through the green room. The entire room was shaking, bar stools toppling over.  Sammy was yelling at Bobby, telling him to get back, try to take shelter in the corner. He had Dean by the wrists and was dragging him across the floor to join him.

            Zach’s face was crimson.  He grimaced with the strain, trying with all his strength to push Cas back.  Only to see the other angel take yet another halting step closer.  For the first time, Zachariah looked uncertain.  “You can’t do this!” he screamed.  “I am Michael’s right hand man!  You’re just a garrison captain.  You’re barely fit to lick my boots!  How dare you?!”

            Once again, Dean waited for a witty reply.  But once again, fake Cas said nothing.  He was nearly on top of Zach now, his steps moving faster until he was lurching forward.  When he abruptly changed strategies, and stopped using his powers, Cas nearly fell on his face.  Then he looked up, and Zach’s angel blade was in his hand.  Cas barely brought his own up in time to defend.

            Cas never changed expression.  He was crouching, circling Zach, waiting for his chance.  Zach made a quick slash.  Cas wasn’t quick enough to jump back.  A razor thin line of light appeared on his chest.  Dean laughed.  “Oh, come on! Cas could take that overweight executive type with one hand tied behind his back, but Zach’s the one who gets first blood?”

            That made Zach laugh.  “Listen, Castiel!  Even your precious ape knows what a failure you are!  You...”

            Fake Cas still hadn’t said a word.  But he didn’t have to.  While Zach was mocking him, he shot forward.  Cas tackled Zach, pushing his weapon arm away and sending the heavyset man crashing to the floor.  Cas’s blade raced upward until it impacted the other angel’s sagging jowl.  Then it kept going, moving up, piercing Zach’s mocking tongue.  Cas never slowed.  He shoved the dagger upwards until it sank through Zach’s palate and into his head.

            Light streamed from Zach’s eyes and mouth.  Then he went still.  His shocked expression was frozen for all eternity.  The shadow of wings burned into the floor of the green room.

            Dean blinked in surprise.  “Ok, I will admit I did not expect that.  I thought this would be a scenario where Zach kills everyone to prove how powerless I am and that no one is coming to help me.  Instead, this is the big rescue moment, right?  Ok, I’m game.  C’mere, Cas, and make with the laying on of hands.  Bobby first!”

            Fake Sammy was doing an amazing job of mimicking bitchface number 6.  “Damn it, Dean, this is real!  That’s really Cas, and he really just risked everything for you, again!”

            “He heals like Cas, too,” Dean observed, watching as fake Cas reached out two fingers to fake Bobby’s forehead.  “Nice job!  Ok, you going to do me?  Lay it on me, healer boy, and then you can carry me out into the sunset!”

            Dean was sure there would be pain.  He’d already experienced so much pain that the brief respite while Zach was distracted with his visitors seemed odd.  So he thought he was ready for anything when fake Cas’s cool fingers touched his forehead.  But he was wrong.  Castiel’s grace flooded through Dean, and suddenly everything was different.  His pain was gone, but there was more to it.  It was like his thirst was quenched by the most pure and cool glacial water in the world.  It was like his hunger was abated by the perfect cheeseburgers, even better than those Zach had offered and he’d refused to take.  It was like it had been that day they’d taken Cas out to see the bees and he’d healed every little ailment.  Even the fingernails Dean had torn off scratching at the walls and floor were restored.

            Apparently, something showed in his face.  “Told you,” Sam announced smugly.  “We’ll discuss how you can make this up to us later, after we all get out of here.”

            Dean sputtered, searching his repertoire for a killer zinger.  But he forgot to say anything a moment later when Cas was suddenly kneeling down next to him.  The angel’s arms slipped under Dean’s body, behind his shoulders and under his knees. Then Cas was standing, lifting Dean in a bridal carry.  “Um, Cas?” Dean managed.  “Wh-what are you doing?”

            “I believe your instructions were to carry you off into the sunset?”

            “Ok, we need to work on your ability to recognize sarcasm.  Put me down, Cas!”

            Cas wouldn’t meet his eyes.  “You no longer have the ability to command me.”

            That stung, in its own way, worse than anything Zach had been doing to him.  Behind him, he could hear Sammy gasp in dismay and Bobby grunt, but it was enough to render Dean speechless.  He was still and quiet while Castiel carried him out.

            Cas didn’t put Dean down until they’d reached the Impala.  It was the most awkward silence Dean had ever endured.  He couldn’t even enjoy the feeling of being back in his angel’s arms. There was nothing to enjoy.  Cas carried him the way he’d carry a bag of dirt. There was no tenderness, no gentleness in the action.  Cas certainly wasn’t hurting Dean, but carrying him felt more like a chore than the loving act it was meant to be.  Dean’s heart ached.  Over and over, he played their last night together in his mind.  He’d come so close, too close, to raping Cas that night. The way he’d touched, kissed the angel, knowing full well that Cas was in chains and under the influence of something, unable to consent?  No wonder Cas hated him.  Dean sadly wondered why, if the angel really was free now, he’d even bothered to come to help him at all.

            Despite everything, his baby was a welcome sight.  Dean clung to Cas until the angel finally put him down.  But he didn’t let go.  “Cas?” he began.  “That last night, what happened between us?  That was terrible.  I’m sorry.”

            “I know.”  Castiel’s expression could have been carved from stone.  “It shouldn’t have happened.  I wasn’t myself.”

            Dean searched Cas’s eyes, trying to read him. But they revealed nothing of what the angel was thinking or feeling.  “Then you and I, we’re, um, ok?”

            “We’re fine Dean.  Let go of me.”

            Dean somehow forced himself to let Cas go.  He was still searching the angel’s eyes, but Cas refused to meet his gaze.  “Thank you,” Dean said.  “For coming for me.  Even though I was telling you not to.”

            “As I said, you no longer have the ability to command me.”  Cas’s eyes flicked over the group.  “You’re not safe yet.  It’s best if you drive back to the bunker.  It won’t take long for the angels to realize what’s happened, if they haven’t already.  So drive quickly.  I’ll do what I can to distract them and meet you there.”

            “You’re not coming with us?”

            The words were out before Dean had a chance to consider them.  He grimaced, wishing he could take them back as Cas’s icy blue eyes finally locked on him. “No,” Cas said.  “I will not be coming with you.  I’ll distract my fellow angels, return to the bunker, and continue to help you find a way to prevent the apocalypse.  Then, assuming by some miracle we’re successful, I’ll move on.  And I expect I will be hearing no further prayers from you, Dean.”

            Dean swallowed and nodded.  “You got it.  For what it’s worth, I’ll never know what possessed you to save me, Cas.  And I can’t ever apologize to you enough for what you’ve gone through since then.  But I’m glad I got to meet you.”

            For one moment, the glaciers in the angel’s eyes seemed to soften.  He looked around at the three hunters and nodded.  “I am also glad that I got to meet all of you.  Now excuse me.  It’s best we all got moving.”

            There was a rustling sound, and Cas was gone.

            Dean sagged, leaning against his baby, and fought to control his emotions.  “Oh my god,” he moaned.  “Sammy, Bobby, he doesn’t even want to look at me!  And why should he?  After what I did to him, he has every right to smite me on the spot!”

            “Get in the car, ya idjit,” Bobby growled.  “I’ll drive first because it’s obvious you’re in no shape for it.  Like Cas said, the angels will be coming back any minute and we need to be gone.”

            Dean, for once, climbed meekly into the back seat of his baby.  He barely even noticed as Bobby started down the road.  Guilt tore at him now even more than the torture Zach had put him through.

            “You know you really are an idiot, right?” Sammy said.  “Cas could have fluttered off just the way he did now the moment we took his collar off. But he didn’t.  He stayed, to help save you.”

            “I almost raped him, Sammy!” Dean yelled.  “Didn’t he tell you that?”

            “Nope,” Bobby called.  “He told us where Zach took you and that you were praying to him, telling him not to come.  But that angel of yours never even considered listening to you.”

            “Do you know how Magnus was controlling him, Dean?” Sammy asked.  “He implanted a pump into his abdomen that was pumping a mixture of holy oil and djinn venom right into his spinal cord.”  Sammy nodded, raising one eyebrow.  “Djinn venom, Dean.  You know, that stuff that makes you hallucinate your heart’s desire?”

            “That’s sick!”

            “Yes it is.  And every time one of us held his book and commanded him, Cas saw you, Dean. Now.  What does that tell you?”

            “That Magnus died way too easy!”

            “Dean!” Bobby yelled.  “Your angel was submitting because he was seeing you!  He was seeing his heart’s desire.  And that heart desired you!”

            “Ah, but see, here’s the thing,” Sammy went on. “Any time one of us commanded him, Cas thought it was you.  But he wasn’t trying to kiss any of us, was he?  The only one he did that with was you!  Some part of him knew, Dean.  Cas knew when it was really you.  So whatever happened between you that last night?  He knew who you were!”

            “He still wasn’t capable of giving consent,” Dean countered.  “He knew it was me from the moment he woke up after you carried him into the bunker! How cooperative was he with me, huh?” He shook his head, disgusted.  “You should have heard him, Sammy.  If you had, you’d realize just how sick Magnus really was.  Cas was just throwing himself at me, going on about how he was an angel and couldn’t allow himself to show his true feelings before.  But now he could show me how he really felt.  It was everything I wanted, Sam!  Cas, kissing me, saying exactly what I wanted to hear, letting me hold him, touch him?  That was my heart’s desire, ok?!  And I was going to let it happen!  I really think I would have raped him, just because I wanted so badly to believe it, if he hadn’t told me to command him.  So what he said back there?  About how I no longer had the ability to command him?  That was Cas putting me right back into my place.  What I was seeing that night was what Magnus forced him to be. What we saw today?  That’s the real Castiel.  There’s no place for me there, ok?  He’s an angel!  He’s helping us because he chooses to, for reasons of his own.  But he obviously hasn’t forgiven me.  I can’t ask him to.  The best thing that I can do for my angel now is to find a way to stop this apocalypse from happening, and then let him go!”

            Sammy looked like he wanted to say something else. But he glanced at Bobby, saw the older hunter shake his head, and went silent.


	28. The Prophet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The prophet arrives and explains what they have to do in order to successfully close the gates of Heaven and Hell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello readers! This is Samandriel'sBigBro. My husband, BlueRainbow, and I are here because Samandriel gave us the password to his account and said if we want this chapter so bad just write it ourselves. He is running around with Mini-Samandriel right now. The world could probably catch fire and he might not notice. But we got him to talk about it while we were waiting for Mini to get here and we know what is going to happen. So we tried to write it. We can't write for shit. I don't know where that asshole gets it but apparently he got the writing genes and I just got the good looks and charm and sex appeal. So we wrote this and we know it's really shit writing. We know MistyEyes73 has helped him in the past. But we only have the password for this account. His laptop is locked and we don't know how to reach Misty. So Misty if you see this, can you rewrite our horrible writing? It would be a really nice present for him in case something goes wrong with Mini. Please help! The rest of you readers it might be better if you wait until she fixes this. The story is here but the writing is like the stuff we make fun of on this site.
> 
> Samandriel'sBigBro and BlueRainbow
> 
> Misty sez: This note was just too entertaining to delete, so I'm leaving it here to be enjoyed by future generations. Chapter fixed, hope you like it.

            The sound of a crinkling paper bag was the only sound in the bunker.  Dean stared along with everyone else.  Kevin Tran wasn’t an old man with a long grey beard.  He wasn’t a learned scholar or anything else he might have been expecting. Instead, Dean was staring at a high school kid with shaggy hair and terrified eyes, blowing rapidly into a paper bag.

            Apparently, Dean’s opinion was shared.  “You sure this is the guy?” Bobby asked, eyeing the newcomer.

            Benny shrugged.  “He was outside.  We caught him trying to break into the bunker.  Garth and I chased him around for five minutes before Castiel snagged him and popped him in here.”

            “What the hell are you people?!” Kevin squeaked into his bag.

            “Castiel,” Cas intoned.  “I’m an angel of the Lord.”

            “Benny Lafitte.  Resurrected dead vampire from Purgatory.”

            “I’m Garth Fitzgerald IV, werewolf!”

            Sam winced.  “Um, I’m Sam Winchester.  This is my brother Dean, and our friend, Bobby Singer.  We’re, well, we hunt monsters.”

            “Like us!” Garth called cheerfully.

            Kevin froze, his wide dark eyes moving from face to face.  Then once again he was panting into the paper bag.  It billowed and crumpled rapidly.

            Dean rolled his eyes and snagged the bag away. “Ok, kid, you said your name was Kevin Tran?  We’ve been wondering how we were going to find you, and you just showed up here out of the blue all on your own!  You want to tell us how you managed that?”

            Kevin had curled up into a ball and was rocking back and forth on his chair.  “I don’t understand what happened,” he moaned.  “There was some kind of electrical storm.  Then I got struck by lightning!  Next thing I know I’m in my mom’s car driving. I don’t know where I was going, but I had to come here.  Something called me!”

            “The tablets,” Cas supplied.

            Dean glanced over at him.  Since the angel’s return, Dean had been mostly avoiding Cas. Every time they were together, it was awkward.  But now that his angel’s blue eyes were fixed on Kevin, Dean took the time to take him in. Cas, as usual, showed no emotion in his face.  Dean had no idea what he was thinking.  But just looking at the angel was enough to raise Dean’s heartrate.  Then the blue eyes shifted in his direction, and Dean quickly looked away.

            “When the first tablet of the Word of God was found, it awakened you,” Sam was explaining to Kevin.  “Now you’re a prophet, and the only one who can read the them.”

            “Here,” Garth said excitedly.  “Have a look!  You can read...”

            The werewolf was shoving one of the tablets at Kevin, but the already-traumatized young man wasn’t expecting it.  He gave a shriek of terror.  Startled, Garth jumped.  The stone tablet slipped from his hand and crashed to pieces on the floor of the bunker.

            For a moment, everyone just stared.

            “Garth, you idiot!” Benny yelled.

            “Um, did you just break the Word of God?!” Sam asked, incredulous.

            But Cas appeared undisturbed.  “It’s ok.”  Stepping forward, he picked up the broken pieces of the tablet and held them out towards Kevin.

            Kevin hesitated, eying the angel.  Then he reached out and picked up the two largest pieces.  He manipulated the pieces in his hands, fitting them together like a jigsaw puzzle. And the moment the broken edges matched up, the section immediately repaired itself.  A moment later, it was as if the tablet had never been broken.

            “Well, I’d say that settles it,” Bobby said. “Kevin, you are definitely the prophet!”

            “Good!” Garth said.  “Then you can read this, right?”

            Kevin frowned at the tablet in his hands. “Well, yes, but...”

            “No buts!”  Dean moved forward and took Kevin’s shoulders.  “Listen, we’ve got angels after me, and demons after Sammy. And if either one gets either one of us, well, the end result is the apocalypse, ok?  So what we need is for you to read these tablets and figure out a way to close up Heaven and Hell, shut the angels and the demons up for good so they can’t cause any more trouble.  Problem solved!”

            “What?!  You want me to seal up Heaven and Hell?!  I’m in high school!” Kevin yelled.  “I’m not a prophet, I’m in advanced placement!  I was at cello practice and I was hit by lightning!  This is crazy!”

            “Kevin, listen to me,” Sam said, pushing Dean aside. “You are the only one who can read this tablet.  Now that’s all we need you to do.  This is the Angel Tablet.  The other one is the Demon Tablet.  We need you to read them and tell us how we can stop Lucifer and Michael.  And we’ll do the rest.”

            “You’ve just got to read, kid,” Bobby added gently. He was using that father voice Dean had come to know and love.  “That’s all we’re asking you to do.  Read for us, and we’ll take you right back to advanced placement in high school.”

            It had worked on Dean as a kid, and it worked on Kevin now.  The boy visibly relaxed, leaning forward in his chair to place the Angel Tablet on the table and frown down at it.  “This isn’t going to be easy, or quick,” he warned.  “It’s not like just reading a book.  It’s hard.  I can read it, sort of, but it’s like it moves and shakes.  It’s going to take time.”

            “We don’t have time!” Dean yelled.  “Sam and I have been cooped up for weeks now while everyone else has gone chasing after those tablets.  And meanwhile, the demons and angels have been tearing things apart trying to find us.  We had a lot of friends killed!”  Dean went silent, thinking about the people he’d lost.

            “Killed?!” Kevin squeaked.

            “Relax, cher,” Benny called.  “You’re safe here.”

            “This isn’t something you can rush, Dean,” Bobby said.  “Kevin has to take his time.”

            “People are dying!” Dean yelled.  “He needs to buckle down and focus!”

            “And putting more pressure on him is a great way to get him to do that, right Dean?”  Garth smiled down at Kevin.  “It’s ok. You take the time you need.”

            But Kevin was already spooked.  He’d jumped up and was pacing around the room.  His hands were making a mess of his already-messy hair.  “I can’t do this!” he yelled.  “I’m not a prophet, ok?  I’m just a kid!  I have to get into college!  I wanted to be the first Asian American President!”

            “Who the hell do you think is going to vote for you if everyone gets wiped out in the apocalypse?!”

            “Dean!”  Benny shot Dean a warning glare.

            Bobby shook his head.  “It’s obvious that Kevin here needs a little bit of breathing room. Sam, why don’t you take him back to one of the rooms, let him rest and get his composure?”

            “Sure.”  Sam reached for the tablets, but Kevin quickly snatched them both to his chest. Sam raised his hands.  “Ok.  Do you want to go rest?”

            Kevin nodded.  He got up to follow Sammy.

            “We,” Dean began as soon as he was gone, “are wasting time!”

            “No real choice, brother,” Benny called.

            “He’s right,” Cas said.  “The prophet’s abilities are limited, but they’re present. If what we’re looking for is on those tablets, he will find them.  But he’ll find them in his time, not ours.”

            Dean flinched.

            “So what do we do until then?” Garth asked.

            “We wait,” Bobby announced.

****

            Patience had never been a virtue Dean Winchester had in abundance.  That was never more obvious than now.  As days and then weeks went by, he tried to keep busy.  He cleaned, he read, he watched Dr. Sexy.  He looked up copious amounts of porn.  Never mind that, any time he beat off, it was Cas he was seeing. It was clear that Cas still wanted nothing to do with him.  Half the time, the angel wasn’t even there.  Over and over again, Dean would learn that Cas had gone fluttering off, gone on some errand or another of his own without word or explanation.  Then he would appear suddenly, usually when Dean least expected him.  Again and again, Dean would turn around and Cas would be there.  Every time, the angel would be watching him with his head tilted, blue eyes squinting at him as though Dean was a puzzle he couldn’t quite figure out.  Then he would vanish as soon as he realized Dean was looking at him.  Sometimes literally.  Dean considered putting a bell on the angel somehow, just so he’d have some warning.

            Finally, just when Dean was ready to explode, Kevin called everyone to meet with him in the map room.  The high school advanced placement student certainly knew how to study. The map table was covered with carefully-inscribed notes in Kevin’s neat handwriting.  “I think I found what we’re looking for,” Kevin began.  “Basically, God built a series of trials.  When you’ve done all three, you can slam the gates. The first one I cracked was for Hell.” He indicated the Demon Tablet. “The first part requires someone to bathe in the blood of a hellhound.  Then you have to free a soul unjustly imprisoned in Hell and restore it to Heaven.  Finally, you have to cure a demon.”

            “I’ll do it,” everyone said at the same time.

            “You two idjits can’t do it,” Bobby declared. “You take one step outside of this bunker and the angels and demons will take you!  And Castiel, you already have angels and demons angry at you because you have those tablets and are hiding Sam and Dean!”

            “We’ll do it,” Garth announced.  “Me and Benny.”

            “That’s right,” Benny agreed.  “I’ll close the gates of Hell, and Garth will close the gates of Heaven.  Just leave it to us.  I can already tell I’ll have my work cut out for me.  What does Garth have to do to do his part?”

            “With two tablets to work on at the same time it was easier,” Kevin explained.  “The spells are written on the same place and they are similar.  You basically have to deal with a lesser being, correct a wrong, and alter a greater being from Hell to close the gates of Hell.  You do the same with Heaven.  Garth, for your trial, first you have to get a cupid to unite a same sex couple.  Then you’ll need to get a soul into Heaven that earned it but was denied entry unjustly. Finally, you’ll have to restore the faith of a fallen angel.”

            Like everyone else, Dean’s eyes immediately went to Cas on the last.  But for some reason, he realized, everyone was looking at him, as well.  “What?” he asked.

            Bobby ignored him.  “Any reason we can’t do both trials at the same time?” he asked instead.

            “Um, none that I can see,” Kevin said.  “But even though it’s easier with two tablets to compare, it’s not like I can just translate them.  There is a warning here, something about the one who does each trial. But I can’t translate it yet.”

            “Keep working,” Sam encouraged.  “And we’ll start our part.”

            “Step one should be the hellhound,” Benny said. “I know a man who made a crossroad’s deal.  His time is almost up.  So they should be coming for him soon.  All I gotta do is kill it and let its blood splash onto me.”

            “The demon killing knife should take care of it,” Dean said.  “But they’re invisible!”

            “Not necessarily,” Cas corrected.  “The hellhounds are invisible, but there’s a way around that.  If you wear glasses scorched with holy flame, you can see them.”  He hesitated.  “The holy oil that Magnus used to capture me should do the trick.  I believe you took some when you raided his compound?”

            “Right!”  Dean quickly ran to the storage area.  A bit of poking around produced a pitcher of holy oil and a metal bowl.  He brought both back to the map room, displayed them to his friends, and put them on a table.  Then he dug around in some of the old junk left behind by the Men of Letters. Sure enough, he came up with two sets of old-fashioned reading glasses.  One had a set of white cat’s eye frames.  The other had thick black frames.  They were what his dad would have called BC glasses - Birth Control. No one who wore glasses like that had much hope of female company.

            Dean brought them back to the map room.  He poured a little oil into a metal bowl and lit it. Then he passed each pair of glasses through the flame.  “There. Demon seeing glasses.”  He handed them to Benny and Garth.

            “Why do I get the lady librarian glasses?” Garth complained.

            “Ok, that should help with the hellhound,” Benny said, slipping his glasses into his breast pocket and ignoring Garth’s attempts to trade.  “What about the soul?”

            “That’s easy,” Cas said.  “I can take you to hell, and we can free the Righteous Man. The one that did finally break in Hell.”

            “You mean the one that replaced me,” Dean said quietly.  “I should be the one to do this trial.”

            Benny clapped him on the back.  “Au contraire, brother.  That’s proof positive that you are the last one who should do this.”  He looked at Cas.  “So how do we cure a demon?”

            “I don’t know,” Cas said.

            That was unexpected.  Dean gaped at Cas like everyone else.

            “Well, that’s a setback,” Garth grumbled.

            “No it ain’t!” Bobby growled.  “Look around you!  We’re standing in the middle of the greatest collection of supernatural lore in the world.  If there’s a way to cure a demon, then the Men of Letters probably know something about it.

            “If it’s here, I’ll find out,” Sam vowed.  “I’ll study the information here at the bunker, see what I can find.  Meanwhile, you can work on the first two to close the gates of Hell and start the trials for Heaven.”

            “Yes, that’s a great idea!” Garth said cheerfully. “The Heaven trials sound a lot less complicated.  Maybe we should finish them and then go back to the Hell trials?”

            “We need to get that hellhound while we have the chance,” Benny urged.  “Otherwise, it’s going to be hard to find one!”

            “And the trials from the Angel Tablet are anything but easy!” Cas snapped.  “Convincing a cupid to unite a same sex couple will be difficult.  Their job is to unite couples, but primarily for the purpose of breeding.”

            “I think I can convince him,” Garth declared. “How do I contact one?”

            “I can help with that,” Cas said.  “The rest is up to you.”

            “Ok, how about bringing a soul into Heaven?”

            “That will be even harder,” Cas warned.  “The rules to enter Heaven are very strict.”

            “What about the Righteous Man?” Dean asked.  “Once we bust him out and he goes to Heaven, wouldn’t he count for two?”

            “No,” Cas said.  “He is in Hell unjustly, but if you simply clear his path, his soul will rise to Heaven because he belongs there.  What this spell calls for is a soul that would never normally enter Heaven because it doesn’t belong.  And that’s where the difficulty lies!”

            “Ok, we’ll work on that,” Bobby said.  “What would it take to restore the faith of a fallen angel?”

            Cas bristled.  “Stop looking at me!  It’s obvious what you’re all thinking, but it’s not possible.  There is nothing that could restore my faith after what I have been through.”

            That brought another awkward silence.

            “Fine,” Bobby said quietly.  “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.  For now, let’s just start with the hellhound. Benny you said you know someone?”

            “Yes,” Benny said.  “He’s pretty far off, but if Cas helps us, we can get there.  Would you mind?  If you help us, I’ll handle the hellhound.  You can help Garth fight while I spill its blood.”

            “I can help!” Dean insisted.  “I can get another set of glasses, fix them up just like yours.  There’s no point in me staying here.  Bobby can keep an eye on Kevin while Sammy does his nerd thing to find out how to cure a demon.  Come on, guys!” he whined, seeing the doubtful looks.  “I can help!  I’m tired of being locked in!”

            “Dean, I’ll make a deal with you,” Garth began. “If you stay here this time, I promise to take you with me when we go to talk to a cupid.  But!”  He shook his finger at Dean.  “Only if you stay.  We’re hidden, Dean.  Between the wards Cas gave us and our tattoos, we’re hidden from angels and demons. The tattoos Cas got will hide him, too. And yes,” he called over Dean’s protests, “I know you have the same wards and tats.  But Dean?  It’s not just angels and demons out looking for you.  Both sides have been recruiting.  Now you’ve got humans looking for you and Sam.  That’s why they went after our friends, ok?  They’re getting desperate!  So how about we don’t just hand you to them on a silver platter? Sit this one out.  Then come and help me with the cupid.  I think I’m going to need you there.”

            “Fine,” Dean grumbled.  “But you better not back out of taking me to talk to the cupid!”

            “I promise I won’t,” Garth promised.  “I’m going to need your help with that trial.  You and Cas both!”

            Dean had been thinking talking to the cupid would be boring, at least compared to fighting with a hellhound.  But Garth looked and sounded so sincere he felt better.  Besides, even if it was just a cupid, it was still an angel, right?  With the angels looking for him, Garth must have something special up his sleeve. Whatever it was, anything was better than being cooped up in here.  “Alright,” he said at last.  “Glad to help.  At least I’ll be out of the bunker.”

            That settled it.  Benny and Garth packed up their gear.  Then Cas put a hand on each of their shoulders, and a moment later all three were gone.  For a time, Dean simply stood as he was, staring at the spot where Cas had just been. Every time the angel left, Dean felt hollow inside.

            Apparently, it was noticeable.  Sam pulled Dean aside, drawing him away from Bobby and Kevin. “Dean?” he began.  “Are you and Cas still not talking?  It’s been months!  Why won’t you just talk to him about how you feel?”

            Immediately, all of Dean’s defensive walls slammed into place.  “What’s to talk about?” he growled.  “He’s polite but I don’t know what to say to him.  What the hell could you possibly say to someone you almost raped?!”

            “Do you honestly believe he’s angry at you?!” Sam asked, looking exasperated.  “Haven’t you seen the way he looks at you?”

            “Look, Sammy.  I caught him staring at me a few times, but when I see him, he just looks away. I think he still hates me.  Dammit, he’s got every reason to hate me!  All he wants is to just finish this and close the gates of Heaven so he’s not hunted anymore.  Then he’ll be free.”

            “I don’t think so,” Sam said.  “Dean, you need to sit down and talk, really talk, to Cas.”

            “Why the hell don’t you talk to Cas then?” Dean challenged.

            “I tried!” Sam exclaimed.  “He will talk to me about Heaven, about what happened to him with Magnus and his other owners, about how strange it still is to be able to just go where he wants and do what he wishes.  In short, he’ll talk to me about anything except you.  Every time I try to talk about you, he gets mad and leaves or changes the subject!”

            “Then what makes you think he wants to talk to me?” Dean asked.  He shook his head.  “You know what, forget it.  Sammy, go and do your research and find out how to cure a demon.  I’ll help you.  But don’t talk to me about Cas!”

            “Cas is not the only one who gets mad or changes the subject,” Sam said.

            “Shut up, bitch!”  Storming away from his brother, Dean went into the library and started researching.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Misty I will put a comment in for you to reply to so I know when you see this. Thx!
> 
> Misty sez: You're welcome! You guys actually didn't do half bad.


	29. The First Trials

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alarmed by the damage to Benny after defeating a hellhound, Garth is still determined to start the first Angel Tablet trial. Kevin keeps searching for an answer. Dean starts to wonder why he's there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to apologize for Frick and Frack, especially to MistyEyes73. Those two know that I feel guilty if I don't post at least once a week. But my attention was very much elsewhere. I wasn't 100% serious when I told them to write the chapter themselves. I mostly told them my password to get them to shut up about it. But it seriously was awesome that they did that. I'll even forgive them for the Samandriel bullshit, this time.
> 
> Now back to our regular posting! I'm anxious to see what y'all think of this one.

            “I don’t understand!” Garth complained, shaking his head at Cas. “What do you mean, this isn’t something you can heal?”

            “Benny’s body has been damaged at a molecular level,” Cas explained patiently. “I don’t know what’s causing it. And I can’t heal it.”

            “But it’s got to be the hellhound blood, right?  And you’re an angel!  You can smite demons and barely break a sweat,” Garth reminded.  “Benny’s a vampire.  I should have realized that being doused with the blood of a hellhound would have had some sort of effect on him.  But you still should be able to heal him, Castiel!”

            “Garth!” Dean snapped.  “He already said he can’t, ok?”

            “Easy, brother,” Benny sighed, putting a hand on the upset werewolf’s shoulder.  “Castiel healed us up after fights even when we had him chained up like a dog.  That was his suggestion, remember?  He’s not going to intentionally leave us hanging now. Not when we’re this close.”

            “It’s something from the tablets,” Kevin offered in a small voice.  “I know there’s something there about the one going through the trials.  I just haven’t translated it yet.”

            “Keep looking,” Bobby offered.  “But meanwhile, maybe I should start the Angel Tablet trial?”

            “No,” Garth said quickly.  “I’m stronger than any human.  It’s my job.”

            “I could try to do both?” Benny offered.

            But Kevin was shaking his head.  “You can’t. You can only go through one trial at a time, and if you don’t complete it, you have to start over.”

            Benny frowned at this.  “You just be careful, Garth,” he warned.  “If these trials end up hurting me, I got it coming.  But you don’t deserve any of this.”

            “Maybe the Angel Tablet trials won’t do this?” Sam suggested.

            Dean couldn’t tear his eyes away from Benny’s arms.  Beneath the surface of his skin, faint lights swirled.  Dean shook his head.  “All I can say is that this better not be anything permanent,” he said.  “And it better work!”

            “It will work,” Kevin soothed.  “That much I can say.  If we can successfully complete these trials, it will close all the gates of Heaven and Hell.”

            “That’s worth dealing with a light show,” Benny grumbled.

            “Then it’s time I got started with my part.”  Garth swallowed hard, straightened his spine, and turned to Dean. “Alright, Dean.  I’m going to need you to help me with this, you and Castiel.”

            “You don’t need me,” Cas said quickly.  “I can teach you how to summon a cupid into a circle of holy oil. Lighting the oil will trap it and keep it from broadcasting where Dean is.  After that, it’s up to you.  You don’t need me there at all.”

            Bobby, Sam, Garth, and Benny all exchanged looks.  Bobby cleared his throat.  “Cas, you’re our resident expert on angels,” he began.  “Garth’s going to need you there in case something goes wrong.”

            Cas made a face.  “I would prefer not to be involved.  I’m very uncomfortable with this.”

            “Aw, Cas, I’m sorry!” Garth exclaimed.  “I should have realized.  We’re asking you to stand there and watch us trap another angel!  That must bring up such awful memories for you.”

            “Erm, it’s not that.”  Cas shifted uncomfortably.  “I believe I’ll be able to successfully distance myself from my memories of what Magnus did to me.  But dealing with a cupid is, um, unsettling.”

            Everyone stared at him.  Cas frowned and waved a hand.  “You’ll see for yourselves.  I will say for the record that bringing Michael’s perfect vessel to meet with a minor angel is not a good idea.  But I have been around Dean Winchester long enough now to know that there is little point suggesting leaving him behind.”

            “Damn right there isn’t!” Dean called.

            “I need Dean,” Garth said quickly.

            “What for?”

            “Well, erm, I mean, um...”  Garth rubbed the back of his neck.  “He’s a quick thinker!  If I run into trouble with the cupid, he can help me think of a way to get out of it.”

            “Sam is decidedly more intelligent,” Cas pointed out.  “The logical choice is that you should take him instead, leave Dean behind.”

            “No way!” Dean yelled.  “Garth, you promised!”

            “That’s right, I did,” Garth agreed.

            “It’s fine, really,” Sam said quickly.  “I still have a lot to do, researching the later trials.  And Garth did promise Dean.”

            “One thing that my time here on Earth among humans has taught me,” Cas grumbled.  “Humans frequently make little rational sense.”  He waved a hand.  “Fine. I will accompany you, although I’d prefer to remain largely peripheral.  I cannot help you with this trial any more than I already am.  It must be you who completes it!”

            “I’ll complete it!  I swear!” Garth impulsively hugged the startled angel.  “Thanks so much, Castiel!”

            “Please let go of me.”

            “Sorry.”

***

            To Dean’s surprise, it turned out that summoning a cupid was fairly simple. It didn’t take much more effort, from what Dean could tell, than summoning your garden variety demon.  Dean bounced on the balls of his feet, demon killing knife in one hand and his favorite pistol in the other.  Neither of them would do a damned thing if this little winged freak turned out to be rabid.  Given their track record, a rabid cupid would get fair betting odds in Vegas.

            As usual, Dean’s eyes sought out Castiel.  The coldness, the distance between Dean and his angel was still very much in evidence.  Dean didn’t have to look any further for proof of this than the fact that Cas had argued for leaving Dean in the bunker and taking Sammy instead.  Nothing new there.  No matter what, Cas always tried to avoid doing anything that involved Dean.

            Right now, Cas barely seemed to remember Dean was there.  He was busy with Garth, helping him practice the Enochian words that would force the cupid to real himself.  Dean had poured out the circle of oil, hoping it would help if Cas didn’t have to see it done.  By the time the angel looked back, Dean had already marked the boundaries of the circle with small snippets of colored tape.  He’d placed his body strategically between the circle and Cas, making sure that the angel wouldn’t accidentally step into it.  Cas had glanced at Dean, looked at the circle, and then looked away.  The neutral expression on his face hadn’t changed. Dean’s heart ached a bit.

            At least Garth seemed to notice.  The ever-cheerful werewolf was doing his best to keep things light.  “Ok, great job, Dean!  And standing in front of the circle, that’s smart.  We don’t want Castiel to accidentally step into it.”

            “I would hardly step into a circle of holy oil that is clearly marked with tape,” Cas grumbled.  He’d turned his back to the other two and was moving away.  He moved a few feet away, stopped, turned back, and waited.  His gaze was fixed on the floor.

            “It was still a nice gesture!” Garth insisted.  “And Castiel, the fact that you’re doing this at all?  That’s just amazing!  I mean, this whole thing started because you cared so much about Dean that you couldn’t condemn him to Hell.  And now, after everything that’s happened, you’re still here, still helping!” He smiled.  “That’s amazing.  Really, really admirable!  Don’t you agree, Dean?”

            “Yes, Garth, and it’s precisely why we should stop fooling around and get on with it!” Dean barked.  “Cas would like to get back to living as much of his own life as he can once we close the Gates.  So how about we get them closed?”

            Garth’s face fell, and Dean felt as if he’d kicked a puppy.  Well, Garth was a werewolf, so he kind of had?  Forget it, Winchester.

            The now-subdued werewolf was still a hunter.  He did a quick check of everything.  The holy oil had been neatly poured in a large circle.  Dean handed him a reliable lighter.  The words were carefully spelled out phonetically in a notebook in his hand.  And a small kitchen fire extinguisher was waiting at Garth’s feet.  Dean indicated the last with a nod of his head.  “The only part I’m confused about is that,” he said. “I know you have to let the cupid out for him to do his shoot-the-arrow trick, but what’s to keep him from just lying through his teeth, grabbing me, and dragging me off to another room like Zach’s?”

            “Me.”  A powerful hand gripped Dean’s arm, pulling him back.  “Stay close to me.  If he touches you, I assure you that I am more than capable of destroying this or any other cupid.”

            Cas’s hand seemed to burn a mark into Dean’s arm.  It was the first time his angel had touched him since they’d all returned back to the bunker.  Cas dragged Dean a few feet back.  Then he immediately let go.

            Dean couldn’t keep himself from touching the spot on his arm where the angel’s hand had been.  But Cas didn’t meet his eyes.  He was frowning as he watched Garth.  “I would advise you to stop staring at us and begin this ritual.  This warehouse is isolated, but bear in mind.  We are always hunted.”

            Dean looked at Garth to see the werewolf looking back with a goofy, hopeful smile on his face.  Garth nodded. Then he began to chant.

            The cupid wasn’t a cute little chubby child in a loincloth.  It was an overweight middle-aged man.  A loincloth would have been welcomed.  The cupid wore nothing at all.  He stood there in the circle of flames with his boys on display and his hot dog dangerously close to roasting as the flames flickered around him. And he didn’t seem at all bothered. “Hi!” he called cheerfully.  “Oh, look, it’s Castiel!  Brother, I missed you!  And you found Michael’s Sword, how wonderful!”

            “Why is he naked?” Dean asked in a strained voice.

            “They nearly always are,” Cas replied in the same voice.  “They also like to hug.  If he wasn’t in a circle of flames he’d be hugging all of us right now.  I am not comfortable dealing with them.  And I’m not at all upset about the circle of holy fire. It’s probably the only thing keeping him from hugging us.”

            Even Garth seemed a bit taken aback.  But Dean couldn’t imagine any other hunter more uniquely suited to debating a cupid.  The werewolf immediately started talking about love, and the cupid responded at once. “Oh, I love love!” he squealed. “I am absolutely in love with love!”

            “Good!” Garth encouraged.  “Because I need you to unite a very special couple.  One that was meant to be, but will never take that first step without your help.”

            “Of course!”  The cupid was bouncing with excitement.  The effect was not a good one.  “You’ll have to let me out of these flames, though.”

            “If I do that, then you have to promise that you won’t try to take Dean.”

            “Take Dean?”  The cupid scoffed.  “That’s not what cupids do.  We don’t collect vessels, we simply create them.  Like him and his brother.  We worked so hard on getting their parents together!  Did you know they hated each other at first?  It was a lot of hard work, but we pulled it off!”  He giggled.  “Some things were just meant to be.”

            “Wait, these naked dicks got my parents together?!” Dean whispered at Cas.

            “Dean, you know now that you and Sam were destined to be powerful vessels,” Cas reminded.  “Heaven has had its eyes on your family for generations.  That’s what cupids do.  Along with uniting soulmates, they also get orders to arrange for certain bloodlines to mix in order to produce the perfect offspring for what Heaven requires.  And that is why Garth has his work cut out for him here.”

            Sure enough, the cupid was frowning and shaking his head.  “That makes no sense,” he declared.  “You want me to unite a same-sex couple?  That’s silly, silly!  The whole purpose of love is to produce families, children! Homosexuality is an evolutionary dead end.”

            “But you just said you were in love with love,” Garth argued.  “Love is love, no matter if they’re capable of producing offspring or not.”

            “Look, Garth, can I call you Garth?  Garth, that’s all very politically correct.  Personally, as someone who can see soulmates, I’m all for someone finding their perfect match so long as it doesn’t interfere with any of my orders.  But that’s not my job.  We’re all about shaping the next generation!”

            “So if someone’s soulmate happens to have the same genitals as they do, they might never get together?”

            “Unfortunately, no.”  The cupid looked sad.  “I know that a lot of people have lived unhappy lives and died alone because they never found that one person who completes the other half of their soul. But see, it’s not all gloom and doom! Soulmates tend to be drawn naturally to each other.  We cupids just facilitate things.  If two soulmates actively seek each other out, with or without our help, they will always share a Heaven.  We make sure it happens.”

            “What if the two souls involved were deserving of your help?”

            The cupid cocked his head to one side and squinted at Garth in an all too familiar way.  “What do you mean?”

            “I know a couple,” Garth began.  “The two of them are both selfless and brave.  They’ve sacrificed and fought for others, even though they rarely if ever get thanked for it.  They’ve suffered for others.  But more than anyone else, they’ve suffered for each other.  The two of them have changed their entire lives for each other. They go above and beyond, cupid, to protect each other, but it’s also in their smallest gesture.  One will step between the other and possible danger, even though there’s little chance of an accident.  The other will vow to protect the first, even if no danger seems to exist. Because they feel it, cupid!  They feel that bond the two of them have.  The problem is that they’re both so stubborn, so sure that the other will reject him, that neither will take that first step. Neither will reach out for the other. And that’s why they need you!” Garth raised his hands imploringly towards the cupid.  “These two men can save the world.  But if they do, their only reward will be to lose each other forever.  You are an advocate of love, cupid!  And without your help, they might never know true happiness!”

            “Garth is really laying it on thick,” Dean whispered to Cas.  “Who’s he talking about?”

            “I’m not sure,” Cas replied.  “But it seems he’s had a couple in mind all along.  Whoever it is, they must be someone close.”

            Dean frowned.  Then realization slowly dawned.  He looked at Cas, frowning in confusion.  He looked at the torn expression on the face of the cupid.  Then he saw Garth’s eyes glance back quickly in his direction and was sure.  “Garth?!”

            “GARTH!”

            Benny’s roar startled all four of them.  The vampire was charging into the warehouse, followed by Sam, Bobby, and Kevin. They looked upset.  “Garth, stop!  You can’t complete this trial!”

            Thank God.  Dean breathed a sigh of relief.  But then he frowned.  “Sammy?  Did you know what Garth was going to...?!”

            “Not now, Dean!” Sam snapped.  “Kevin, tell them what you found out!”

            “The trials,” Kevin explained.  “They extract a toll on the people who perform them.  That’s what’s happening with Benny!”

            “The damage that Castiel can’t heal,” Bobby said.  “It will only get worse with every completed trial.  And if he completes all three?”

            “Then I’ll die.”  Benny’s voice was remarkably calm.  “And I’m fine with that.  It’s like I told you, Castiel.  Sometimes you gotta take one for the team.  But we had to stop Garth from completing this trial.”

            “Benny!”  Garth sounded near tears.  “You can’t just let yourself die.”

            “I’m already dead,” Benny pointed out.  “Dean bringing me back from Purgatory?  That’s time I was never meant to have.  I don’t belong here, not in this time and place.  And after what I did?”  His eyes moved to Cas, who stood as if frozen.  “It’s high time I was the one to pay the price.”

            “Garth, you can’t do this trial,” Dean called.  “Benny, we’ll talk about this, but for now, Garth, let’s just go. Grab our shit and jump in the cars. The fire will burn out and the cupid will be free, after we’re long gone.  Right, Cas?”

            “That is correct.”

            “No.”

            Everyone turned to look at Garth, but Garth was looking at Benny.  “You’ll complete the trials,” Garth was saying.  “You’ll do it because someone has to.  So you’ll seal the gates of Hell, and you’ll die to do it. But Benny, you’re my friend.  We fight a lot, but we’ve been through so much together!  Let’s do this together, too.  And then we’ll both go to Purgatory.  Together.”

            Silence fell, only to be broken by the harsh sound of sobbing.  Dean looked and saw the cupid.  He was still uncomfortably naked, but now he was crying.  Large tears ran down his cheeks.  “That’s so beautiful!” he sobbed.  “I’ll do it.  Let me out, and I’ll do it.”

            “Um, Benny?” Dean began anxiously.

            No one was listening to him.  Garth had already sprayed out the flames.  The cupid was raising his hand.  Dean winced, closed his eyes, and waited.

            Nothing happened.

            Confused, Dean opened his eyes.  The cupid was gone.  No one had moved.  He looked at Cas and saw the angel’s somber expression.  But Cas wasn’t looking at him.  His eyes were fixed on something beyond him.

            “Garth?”

            Dean turned and saw Benny take a tentative step forward.  “You went ahead and completed the first trial,” he said. “Even though you know it will kill you!”

            “Someone had to,” Garth replied quietly.  “I had to stop this.  And I couldn’t let you die alone.”

            Dean’s jaw dropped.  Even before Benny moved forward and started kissing Garth, he’d already figured out what happened.  “Well,” he muttered, “gotta say, I did not see that one coming!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know. I didn't tag this pairing. But sometimes the archive tags just give too much away!


	30. The Price of Free Will

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Benny completes the second Demon Tablet trial, Dean learns a hard lesson about free will

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I asked the Grand Jedi Mistress of Plot Kudzu about writing emotional scenes. She said the best example she could give me is "How A Righteous Man Raises A Rose" by Swordofmymouth. I'll admit it. I cried. Highly recommend.

            “Ok, that?” Dean called.  “That was the longest, most uncomfortable night I have ever spent in the bunker.”

            “They did get a little, um, loud,” Sammy admitted.  “But to be fair, they’re both sacrificing a lot.  With them going to Hell today with Cas and Bobby, well, I can see why they’d want an extra-special...”

            Dean held up a hand in warning.  “Don’t. Do not finish that sentence.”

            Sam quietly sipped his beer, focusing intently on his reading.  Kevin, who was in his own corner of the library assisting with the research, stayed quiet.

            Dean returned to his own work.  They were close.  Sammy had found a journal entry from one of the Men of Letters describing a ceremony to cure a demon.  Somewhere, the bunker’s library had the answer.  But Dean couldn’t focus.  Over and over again, his thoughts returned to Cas.  Right now, his angel was in Hell with his closest friends.  The four of them were battling their way through the unimaginable to rescue the Righteous Man.  The man who had been broken in Dean’s place.  And here Dean sat.  On his ass in the library.  Doing research.

            Sammy jumped and Kevin squealed when the beer bottle shattered against the wall. Sammy startled again when Dean was suddenly in his face.  Dean’s hands slammed on the table in front of his brother.  “Sammy, what the hell were you trying to do?!” he yelled.  “Garth’s big plan for that cupid wasn’t him and Benny, it was me and Cas!  He was going to try to hook us up to complete his trial.  And you?”  An accusing finger jabbed into Sammy’s chest.  “You were right on board with it!  You all were!  Everyone in this bunker knew what Garth was going to do except for me and Cas.  You sons of bitches!  You had no right!”

            Sammy quickly recovered from his surprise.  Now his features were twisting into bitchface number 3.  “Dean...?”

            “You going to deny it?!”

            “No, Dean, I’m not.”

            “So you admit it!”  Dean swatted a chair, sending it to the floor with a loud crash that echoed through the library.  “You actually admit that you were trying to set me up with my angel!  I cannot believe you!  You’re the one who’s all anti-slavery and respect Cas’s free will. So you turn around and try to use a cupid to force him to fall in love with me?”

            Sammy’s eyes flicked over Dean’s shoulder.  “Um, Dean...?”

            “You know what happened!”  Dean was pacing around now, waving his arms.  “You know what I almost did to him.  How would shooting him with a cupid arrow be any different than whatever the hell Magnus did to him?  Because I almost did it, Sammy.  I almost took advantage of my angel when I knew damned well he couldn’t consent.  I almost raped him!  So your big solution was to put him right back into that same situation?!”

            Sammy was frowning now.  “Dean...?”

            “What even made you think that would work?” Dean pressed, stomping back towards the table.  “Cas is an angel!  He said himself he’s way more powerful than a cupid.  So what made you think that Mr. Birthday Suit could even affect him?”

            Sammy propped his chin in his hand and quietly watched his brother.  Kevin opened his mouth, thought better of it, and sank into his seat.

            “You know what would have happened?  I’ll tell you what would have happened!  I would have got hit by that stupid arrow and gone after Cas.  Again!  Cas might have been fine, sure.  But he’d be stuck with a lovesick me chasing him around.  Can you imagine what that would have been like?”  Dean was pacing again.  “Me, following him around in the bunker.  Getting him flowers.  Trying to get him to go on a date with me.  Dear god what if I started serenading him?!  Could you even picture that, Sammy?  Me, chasing after Cas singing ‘I Will Always Love You’?  Can you imagine anything stupider?”

            “What you’re doing right now count?”

            Dean whirled around.  There was Bobby, standing in the doorway, helping Garth hold up Benny.  And of course, there was Cas.  By Dean’s watch, they’d only been gone an hour.  But apparently, time was different in Hell.  The whole group looked much worse for the wear.  Benny seemed barely able to stand.  He was leaning heavily on the other two.  But Cas appeared to have borne the brunt of the damage.  The angel’s face was a mass of cuts and bruises.  His coat was torn and appeared singed.  Worst of all, Cas’s hand was holding tight to his chest, where blood stained his white button down.

            Dean froze.

            Sammy had gotten up and was moving to help with Benny.  “Let’s get him to his room,” he directed.  “Cas, you alright?”

            “My wounds will heal.”

            “Cas!”  Finally breaking from his stupor, Dean charged forward and went to his angel. “You’re hurt!  Here, let me get you cleaned up.”

            “I’m fine!”

            “No you’re not, you idjit,” Bobby snapped.  “Dean, get him patched up as much as you can.  He took some bad hits from a knight of Hell.  I honestly thought he wasn’t getting up from that last one.”

            Dean’s blood froze.  Ignoring Cas’s protests, he got an arm around the angel.  “Come on, buddy,” he said softly.  “Let me try to help you.”

            At least Cas didn’t push him away.  Dean wouldn’t have blamed him a bit if he had.

            Dean sat Cas down in medical.  “Um, can you get your shirt off for me?”

            Cas tilted his head at him.  Then he began pulling his arms free from his trench coat.

            Don’t watch him strip.  Don’t do it.  Be clinical.  He needs help.

            Dean got the first aid kit, turned back, and there was Cas, topless.  The angel was sitting on the cot, frowning down at the floor.  Dean firmly got control of his emotions and moved to inspect the wound on his chest.  “This is really deep,” he noted.  “What caused this?”

            “A demonic sword, wielded by a knight of Hell,” Cas explained.  “The weapon itself wasn’t powerful enough to destroy me.  The knight of Hell was, though.”

            The knight of Hell was powerful enough to destroy Cas.  Cas could have died.  Dean’s hands shook as he splashed cotton balls with antiseptic.  The hiss Cas let out as Dean began to clean the wound made Dean wince.  “Will this heal?”

            “In time, yes.  Treating it will likely help.  I’m glad that this, at least, you don’t consider stupid.”

            “Cas, god damn it, I didn’t know what Garth was planning with that cupid!” Dean exclaimed.  “I never wanted to put you in that position!  Could that arrow have really made you fall in love with me?”

            “A cupid’s job is to unite soulmates,” Cas said.  “I’m an angel.  I have no soul.  I honestly have no idea what would have happened had he tried to hit me with one of his arrows.  I suppose it’s possible, though.”

            “It is?”  Dean grimaced.

            “As a human, you do have a soul.  The cupid’s arrow would most certainly work on you.  Regardless of its effect on me, you would have fallen in love with me.”

            Dean didn’t say anything.  He carefully cleaned the wound and inspected it.  “I should probably stitch this up,” he warned.

            Cas nodded.  “Do as you must.  I want you to know that I was not aware either of Garth’s plan for the two of us. I would never be part of forcing you to do something you didn’t want to do.”

            “Hurray for free will, huh?”

            Cas looked away.

            Dean put in some quick stitches.  Cas never flinched.  Finished, he was about to apply a bandage when Cas suddenly spoke.  “I’m sorry.”

            Dean froze with the bandage in his hand.  “For what?  For getting hurt?  Cas, you could have been killed!  It was Hell, and we all knew you’d end up doing the bulk of the fighting.  So I don’t know why you’d think you should apologize for...”

            “I’m sorry that you came so close to being forced to love me.”

            Pain.  Sharp, stabbing pain, right into Dean’s heart.  Dean closed his eyes and grimaced.  “Cas, the only thing I’m sorry about was that you almost got your free will ignored again.”

            “I don’t understand,” Cas complained.  “The others, they all seemed to be in agreement with Garth’s plan.  But why?”

            “Because they’re nosier than a bunch of old ladies, that’s why!”  Dean carefully applied the bandage.  “They’ve all got this idea in their heads that you and I should be a couple.  This, even though I told them what happened that night, after we got you back from Magnus!”  Dean angrily threw his trash into the basket.  “Cas, I almost raped you that night.  And I cannot tell you how sorry I am!”

            “Raped me?”  The confused squint was back.  “The djinn venom removed all my inhibitions.  I was throwing myself at you!”

            “Exactly!  Which meant you couldn’t consent to what I was doing to you.  I was the one with the clear head.  I was the one who needed to be in control.  And that’s why I left, and got my stupid ass nabbed by Zach and his goons.”  He forced himself to look the angel in the eyes.  “I’m glad you’re free, Cas.  And once all this is over, and you’re finally able to go off on your own?  I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me.”

            “Forgive you?  Dean, you didn’t do anything I didn’t want.  I told you, the djinn venom removed all my inhibitions.  That’s why I threw myself at you.”  He looked away.  “I’m sorry.  I never meant to disgust you.”

            “Disgust me?!  Cas, why the hell would you think you disgusted me?”

            “It’s what you said,” Cas reminded.  “That the spells in the book were disgusting.”

            “They are!”

            Cas slumped.  “And that was all I knew.  I didn’t know how else to please you, Dean.  I wanted to show you how I felt, but the only way I had was...  Disgusting.”

            Dean’s head was spinning.  “Wait. Cas, what are you saying?  You wanted to please me?  That’s why you threw yourself at me, because you were trying to give me, of your own free will, what every other owner you’ve ever had has taken from you by force?”  When Cas nodded, Dean clutched at his head and groaned.  “Cas!  You never had to do that.  If you want to, I would love it, but only if you’re ready for it!”

            Cas looked confused again.  “You want me to be disgusting?”

            “I want you to be you!”  Dean dared to grab the angel’s hands.  “All this time, I was thinking you hated me because I took advantage of you in your vulnerable state.  And I did. I don’t believe for one moment that you were ready for what you were offering me.  That’s why you asked me to command you, didn’t you?  Because you didn’t know what you wanted, and you wanted me to tell you?”

            “Yes,” Cas admitted.  “But when I was no longer being influenced by the djinn venom, I remembered that you’d called those spells disgusting.  And I thought, if you were disgusted by the spells, then I must disgust you as well.”

            “You could never.”  Dean never was good at using his words.  That much had been proven over and over again in his life as his inability to communicate got him into one problem after another.  But he was always a man of action.  He took action now, lunging forward to capture Cas’s lips in a kiss.  “Cas, I don’t know why you would ever want anything to do with me.  After all you went through because of me?”

            “I think that’s why,” Cas replied.  He was looking at Dean now with a gentle smile.  “All that I’ve gone through for you?  It’s made my feelings for you even stronger.  I love you.  I’m sure of it.”

            “Heh, you sure that cupid shot at Benny and Garth?”

            Cas considered.  “I believe I would recognize the effects of a cupid’s arrow on myself.  That is, of course, assuming that a cupid’s arrow could even affect me...”

            “Nerd angel!” Dean laughed, leaning forward to kiss him again.

            Behind them, someone cleared his throat.  Annoyed, Dean turned to glare at Bobby.  Damn it, Cas was just relaxing!

            “Sorry to interrupt,” Bobby apologized.  “But you should know that Sammy figured it out. How to cure a demon.  We’re still stuck on the Angel Tablet trials, but as soon as Benny’s ready?  We’re going to summon ourselves a demon.”  He smiled. “It’s time to close the gates of Hell, Dean.”

            “Ok, great, give me a moment, ok?”

            Bobby raised his hands in surrender and quickly walked out.

            Dean returned to his angel, eager to pick up where he left off.  But Cas looked troubled.  “What is it?”

            “Benny is about to close the gates of Hell,” Cas explained.  “When he does, every demon will be sent back to Hell and trapped there.”

            “Good!  That’s the only way we can get rid of Lilith and end the threat of Lucifer forever!"

            “Yes.  But there is another side to that.”

            “Losing Benny.”  It finally hit Dean.  He sat down hard.  “That’s going to kill Garth long before the Angel Tablet trials do.”

            “Losing Benny and Garth are tragedies that they chose for themselves,” Cas said gently.  “But if Garth does succeed in closing the gates of Heaven, the same scenario applies to the angels.  Every angel will be returned to Heaven and sealed away.”  He paused.  “Including me.”

            Now Dean felt cold.  “No.  No, we can’t do that.  I can’t lose you, not now!”

            “Dean?”  Cas was kissing him again, gentle brushes against Dean’s lips like a butterfly’s wings.  “I was willing to give up Heaven and my freedom for you.  This is my choice now.  Because Michael will not stop.  He’ll come for you, claim his vessel, and take over even if Lucifer is sealed away.”

            “Cas, if you’re locked away in Heaven, then what do you suppose Michael will do to you?”  Dean clutched at his angel’s arm.  “It’s not worth it.  I’m not worth it!”

            “Free will, Dean,” Cas reminded.  “Will you take it away from me once more?  Chain me back up and make me your slave again?”  He nodded, seeing Dean’s shoulders drop.  “This is what free will really means.  Garth and Benny have made their choices.  And I am making mine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes his name is spelled with a second S on Jack’s phone but I’m still not making an ass of Cas.


	31. Worthy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Benny completes the final Demon Tablet trial

            Being a hunter was hard.  That wasn’t news to Dean.  His family had been involved with the supernatural for generations.  The Winchesters had a long history with the Men of Letters.  And their records had proven that his mother’s side were hunters.  Sammy had wondered if this was intentional, this joining of hunters and scholars?  Made sense. If he and Sammy had been destined from before they were born to be the vessels of Michael and Lucifer, then joining those two bloodlines did seem advantageous.  But despite being a hunter his entire life, Dean was never ready to lose another friend.

            Now it was happening again.

            Benny was swaying on his feet.  His hands shook as he drew up another syringe of purified blood.  The four humans in the bunker had all supplied it, going through the cleansing ritual described by the Men of Letters.  They easily had more than enough, both for the demon Benny was working on and the back-up demon they’d captured in case the first didn’t survive the cure.  Looking at her now, Dean thought that had been a prudent plan.  The demon’s head sagged.  She was strapped into a chair in the devil’s trap.  The straps appeared to be the only things keeping her from falling out of the chair.  She was moaning.  Her eyes were rolled back.

            “We’re close,” Sammy said quietly.

            “Yeah.”  Dean looked over at Garth.  The werewolf was close to Benny’s side, offering support.  He’d glared away anyone else who had offered to help.  Now he was silent.  He supported his lover with an arm around Benny’s waist, walking the vampire back to the demon for the next injection.

            The demon moaned again.  Her body jerked in the restraints.  Black eyes suddenly snapped open.  Something new was happening.  The blackness in them was clearing, revealing dazed, confused, human eyes.

            “Did it work?”  Dean whispered anxiously.  “I would have thought closing the gates of Hell would be a bit more...”

            Dean was interrupted when the ground shook.  Alarms started blaring in the bunker.  Lights flickered.  And the back-up demon in his cell shrieked.  Black smoke poured out of his mouth, seeming to be trying to escape up into the sky. It abruptly turned, swooped down, and vanished into the ground.  Meanwhile, the woman in the chair gasped.  Next to her stood a flickering apparition of a woman in an old fashioned pilgrim’s dress. She stared for a long moment at the woman in the chair.  Then she turned and started walking.  She faded as she moved.  In a few steps, she was gone.

            “What is happening?!” the recently possessed woman cried.

            Bobby and Kevin immediately released her.  Still shaking, she quietly went with Kevin.

            Bobby made a quick call.  He smiled. “That confirms it,” he announced. “Dan just told me the demon he had just smoked out and straight into the ground.”  His phone beeped, and his smile widened.  “And that was Dave!  He’s been keeping an eye on Lilith.  Same thing, for her and the demons around her.  All gone!”

            Now everyone turned to Benny.  Garth had helped him sit down.  He was letting the exhausted vampire rest against him.  “You did it,” Garth whispered with a kiss. “You did it, Benny!  You closed the gates of Hell, and you banished all the demons!”

            “Ha!” Benny laughed.  “How about that?”  Then he slumped.

            Dean raced to his friend’s side, taking one of Benny’s hands.  The vampire was weak, but still conscious.  He smiled up at Dean.  “Those tears better not be for me, brother.

            Son of a bitch.  Dean quickly wiped at his eyes.  Sammy moved up next to him.  “Benny?  I can’t thank you enough.  There aren’t words!  All of my life, we’ve fought demons.  And now?  You’ve saved us, not just me, but the entire world!”

            “I knew you could do it.”  Garth’s face was streaked with tears.

            “Now it’s your turn.”  Benny pulled his lover’s face down for a kiss.  “I’ll be waiting for you in Purgatory.  You do what you have to do and then come find me.  We’ll do just fine down there, you and I.  I never should have left.  I’m glad I got to meet you.  All of you.  But it’s time I got back to where I belong.”  His eyes turned to Dean.  “Purgatory’s pure, isn’t it, brother?”

            “Yeah,” Dean managed.  “Purgatory is pure.”

            “At least I finally took one for the team.”  He was looking at Cas now.  “I can’t ask you to forgive me.”

            “I forgive you,” Cas said simply.  “What you did to me was horrible.  But I think what you did here today goes a long way towards making amends.”

            “You don’t even know how much that means.” His eyes flicked to Dean and returned to Cas.  “Don’t let him get too out of hand.  He does, take him to the woodshed!”

            “I’m afraid I don’t understand that reference.”

            Benny chuckled.  His eyes again went to Garth.  Pulling his hand free, he gently wiped Garth’s tears.  “Y’all better take care of this one for me,” he warned.  “Otherwise, I might just pop back out and kick all your asses!”

            “I’ll see you soon,” Garth promised.  “I’ll finish the trials, and I’ll see you soon.”

            “You do that.”  His eyes locked with Garth’s.

            It took Dean a moment to realize that his friend had stopped breathing.  Benny was still gently smiling, looking up at Garth.  It wasn’t until Garth dropped his head to his lover’s chest and started sobbing that Dean finally realized Benny was gone.

            Dean kept himself busy.  He cooked for everyone and cleaned up.  He chopped wood for Benny’s pyre.  He got Garth as drunk as he possibly could.  He stood with his friend as the pyre burned.  Then he helped Garth stumble back into the bunker, where he fell into his bed.

            Suddenly Dean had nothing to do.

            He went back to his room and looked around.  His eyes fell on the makeshift weapon he’d carried in Purgatory.  It hung in a special place of honor on his wall.  Benny was back there now.  He was unarmed.  He was alone.  He was facing not only those he’d turned against before to help Dean escape.  Now Benny also faced the souls of the monsters he’d sent there himself, his work as a hunter.  What happened to the souls of monsters who were killed in Purgatory?  Would Benny somehow reform himself later to fight again?  Or would he simply stop, cease to be?

            For him.  All of this was for Dean.  All because he’d escaped his fate in Hell and now was trying to escape Michael.

            Dean didn’t remember taking the weapon down.  He didn’t remember curling up on the floor with it.  But here he was, clutching the battered weapon to his chest.

            “Every time someone sacrifices himself for you?  A part of you dies.  I told him that, when he sold me to Magnus.  I don’t think he ever forgot it.  I suspect it’s why he wanted my forgiveness.”

            “He wanted to do this,” Dean whispered.  “He wanted some form of penance for what he did to you.”

            “His penance changed the world forever, and in a good way.  If he was human, he would have been welcomed in Heaven as a hero.”

            Dean’s eyes were dry.  Part of him wished that he could cry, just to release this knot in his chest.  “Benny felt he had a lot to make up for.  But Garth?  What’s Garth done?  I should be the one to do the Angel Tablet trials.  Not Garth.”

            “Garth chose to do the trials, Dean.  He chose to die with Benny.”

            “Then he’ll be in Purgatory, too.”  Dean squeezed his eyes shut.  “I keep telling myself it’s for the world.  That it’s the right thing to do.  But losing Benny today, losing Garth later, and losing you?  I can’t do this, Cas!  I’m not strong enough.”

            Gentle hands reached for Dean, gathered him against a warm chest. Suddenly, everything was dark. Surprised, Dean looked up and realized he was inside a cocoon of black feathers.  He sucked in his breath.  “Cas!  Your wings!  But I thought that was an intimate thing?”

            “It is.  Wrapping someone in my wings is the most intimate thing I can do with another soul.  You’re worth it, Dean.  You were worth three years as a slave for me.  Benny and Garth believe you’re worth dying and going to Purgatory for.  And I believe now that you’re worth being locked in Heaven for an eternity of Michael’s wrath for.”

            “I’m not!”  Ah, here they were.  Tears were soaking into Cas’s shirt.  “I’m not worth it!”

            “That’s not your decision to make.”

            Warm lips pressed against his.  Dean let go of his weapon and reached for his angel instead.  Still kissing Cas, he drew the angel towards his bed.  “Intimate,” he whispered.  “I don’t want to hurt you, Cas.  I don’t want to do to you what all your owners did.  I want this to be about you!  Tell me what you want?”

            “You,” came the gruff response.

            “Then take me.”

            The wings were incredible.  They were wrapped snugly around Dean, holding Dean against Cas and leaving Cas’s hands free to explore.  Dean dug his fingers deep into the feathers and heard Cas suck in a breath. “Beautiful.  You’re so beautiful, Cas.  Take me, do whatever you want to me.”

            Cas apparently knew exactly what he wanted to do.  Dean had no idea where his clothing went but suddenly they were skin on skin.  Sometimes Cas’s mojo came in handy.  Dean’s fingers stroked through the thick feathers.  Cas gave a little cry.  The feathery cocoon tilted.  Dean found himself rolling until he was lying on his back on the bed.  The wings had unwrapped from around him.  They hovered overhead, arching above him out of Dean’s reach.  No. That would never do.  Dean stretched, catching the big bones of the wings and trying to pull them back down.  “Don’t take them away.  They’re amazing!”

            Cas dipped his wings down again, giving Dean access to the feathers once more. “Oh Cas, I tried to force you to let me do this!  And I’m probably not alone, am I?  Thank you, thank you for letting me touch them.”

            Cas was shivering.  He gave Dean a small smile.  Then his head lowered.  His tongue came out and flicked at Dean’s nipple.  Now it was Dean’s turn to cry out.  His fingers combed gently through the feathers.  Cas licked and sucked one nipple, moved to the next, and then moved down.  When warm, wet heat suddenly surrounded him, Dean dug deep into the feathers.  The more Cas sucked, the more he combed, which in turn encouraged Cas to keep going.  “Cas!  I’m going to...!”

            He groaned.  Cas had just pinched his fingers around the base of Dean’s cock.  Now he was looking down at Dean with an evil smile.  “Not yet.”

            “Son of a bitch!  You can’t just...  Son of a bitch!”

            Cas’s other hand had moved down.  Now a lubed finger had gently entered him.  It carefully stretched him before another joined it.  Dean hissed through the burn.  Seeing the angel’s expression, he nodded.  “It’s ok.  Don’t stop!”

            Cas didn’t stop.  He carefully prepped and lubed Dean.  Dean didn’t give any more thought to where the lube had come from than he did to where his clothes went.  He was always a man of action rather than a thinker.  His action was to spread his legs wantonly, even as his fingers still combed through Cas’s feathers.  It certainly did something for the angel.  Cas was panting.  He was rock hard when he gently entered Dean.

            Now Dean couldn’t trust himself to keep playing with the wings.  He was afraid he’d jerk out feathers.  He clung to Cas’s arms instead, pulling him down for more kisses.  Already, Cas was panting into his mouth.  “Move,” Dean pleaded.  “Please, please move!”

            Cas moved, and Dean was ready to scale the walls.  His hands flailed out, one catching the bedspread, the other finding the big support bone in Cas’s wing.  That seemed to please Cas.  Without altering his rhythm, he raised Dean up enough that he could slip his wings around him again.  Once more, Dean was in a cocoon of black feathers.  They glistened with rainbow colors like the feathers of a blackbird.  “Beautiful,” he moaned.  “Cas!”

            “You are the most incredible soul I have ever seen,” Cas whispered.  Then he was speaking in another language.  Dean had no idea what he was saying, but as he spoke, his movements grew steadily faster.  Now he was pounding away at Dean.  The two of them existed alone in a world made entirely of black feathers, needy, sweaty bodies and cries of pleasure.

            When Dean’s orgasm hit, he nearly whited out from the force of it.  Hot liquid spurted between them.  With a cry, Dean reached around, digging his hands deep into the feathers at the base of Cas’s wings to the skin of his back. That was enough to put Cas over the edge.  He shouted something in Enochian.  Then heat flooded deep inside of Dean.  He smiled. “I love you.”

            “I love you, too.”

            Dean was content to lie right here, safe in his cocoon and his angel’s arms.  He growled when he heard a knock on the door.  “Go away!”

            “Dean?  Is Cas with you?”

            Garth.  “Ah, god damn it, yes, he’s here.  Give me a moment, buddy.”  Lowering his voice, he kissed Cas again.  “Sorry, angel.  But Garth...?”

            “I understand.”

            Cas pulled out, leaving Dean with a whimper and a sense of longing.  Then Dean blinked and they were both cleaned up and dressed, the magnificent wings vanished to wherever then went when Cas didn’t want them out.  That seemed somehow wrong for some reason.  No matter.  Garth needed him now.  Dean kissed Cas one last time.  Then he kissed him for one very last time, moved towards the door, came back and kissed him for one seriously the very absolute last time.  Finally tearing himself away from his angel, he opened the door.

            Garth looked considerably less drunk than he’d been when Dean had dumped him into his bed.  The werewolf’s eyes were full of determination.  Nodding at Dean, Garth pushed past him into the room and moved to face Cas.  “Castiel?” he began.  “I need your help.  To complete the second Angel Tablet trial.”

            “Of course,” Cas said at once.  “In order to get a worthy soul into Heaven, we need to take that soul to Anubis. Only he can weigh the good and evil in a soul and tell if it’s fit to enter Heaven.  And that is why this trial is so difficult.  Assuming you find a soul that was unjustly barred from Heaven, the good in that soul’s life must outweigh the bad.  That is something not even God himself can change.”

            Garth nodded.  “I know where to find a soul like that.”

            “You do?”  Cas cocked his head.  “Good souls automatically are taken to Heaven.  Where do you believe you can find a just soul that was unfairly denied access?”

            “Purgatory,” Garth replied.  “The soul in question is Benny Lafitte.”

            Cas straightened.  “Garth, Benny is a monster.  He can’t...”

            “Benny shut the gates of Hell,” Garth insisted.  “He saved the world.  He was a hunter.  He saved Dean in Purgatory.  He turned his back on being a monster and he did good.  Yet he’s stuck in Purgatory, just because he’s a monster.  It’s not right.  And I’m changing it.  I’m going to Purgatory to bring back his soul.  Then I’m going to Anubis with or without you.  Because Benny deserves to go to Heaven.  And one way or another, I intend to see he gets there!”


	32. Purgatory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team heads to Purgatory to try to find Benny. Dean is determined to save Cas from an eternity trapped with Michael, but Cas has other plans

            Dean dropped the book in front of Kevin and Bobby with a thud that made them both jump.  “Bobby, you always write everything down,” Dean began.  “So I know you wrote down what you did to take the collar off of Cas.”

            “Of course I did!” Bobby growled.  “You know I keep records for other hunters, Dean.  You never know when something like that might come in handy.”

            “Well, it’s coming in handy now.”  Dean put his hand on the book and took a deep breath.  “Cas’s book, the one Magnus used to protect himself from his own wards.  Is it strong enough to keep Cas from getting dragged back to Heaven?”

            “No,” Bobby said immediately.  The older hunter suddenly looked tired.  “I’m sorry, Dean.  I thought about that, too.  But the Angel Tablet trials aren’t like Enochian sigils.  This is the literal Word of God.  A book designed to protect against wards isn’t a match for that kind of power.”

            “Yeah, I thought so.”  Dean took a deep breath.  He indicated the book he’d brought in.  “This is the book that Magnus used to make those sigils.  The ones that Cas had on his collar.  That’s how he was able to turn an angel into a slave. Because the sigils, they trapped him, confined his powers, right?  Locked him down so much he was basically a human unless we used one of the spells in his book?”

            Bobby exchanged a glance with Kevin.  Then he looked at Dean and narrowed his eyes.  “Dean?  Where are you going with this?”

            “If we lock Cas’s powers down again, like Magnus did when he made him a slave? If he’s that close to human again? Do you think it’s possible we could hold him here when the gates of Heaven close?”

            Bobby and Kevin stared at him in shock.  “Dean!” Kevin exclaimed.  “You cannot seriously be talking about, I mean, you can’t put Castiel through that again!”

            “I can’t lose him,” Dean said simply.  “He’s been through so much.  He gave up everything for me, spent three years as a slave, fought and bled to help us. He’s going with us to Purgatory to help bring back Benny.  And after all this, if we’re successful?  His reward is to get dragged back to Heaven for Michael to torture forever?  No!  I won’t accept that, Bobby!  I can’t!”

            “So this is your answer?” Bobby asked, incredulously.  “After all this, you want to chain him back up again?!”

            “Not chains,” Dean corrected.  “It’s the sigils, not the material, right?  So I thought maybe, like, a belt or something, you know, a wide leather strap that I could just wrap around him and...”

            “Balls!”

            “Dean, have you spoken with Castiel about this plan?” Kevin asked quietly.

            “No,” Dean admitted.  “But I will! I won’t lock his powers down against his will.  And listen, I’ve thought this through.  His book means the sigils have no power over him.  It essentially nullifies them, right?  But he could never touch his book before because there were sigils on his collar that prevented him.  Well, there’s no reason we have to include those!  We don’t have to duplicate his collar and the manacles.  Just the parts we need to lock up his powers.”

            “Dean, you’re still talking about turning him into a slave again,” Bobby reminded.

            “No, I’m not!” Dean insisted.  “He’ll still have his free will.  No one will chain him to the wall.  No one is forcing him into anything.  All I want to do is just lock his powers down.  He’ll basically be human is all.  Plus, his book will be available, right?  I could put the belt on him and he could keep his book near.  Or he can keep it on him and then just, you know, toss it away when we pass the trials so the sigils kick in.  I mean, once the gates of Heaven are closed, they’re closed, right?  It’s just like the gates of Hell.  Souls can get in, but nothing can get back out?”

            Kevin frowned down at the tablet.  “Near as I can tell, yes.”

            “So once all the other angels get dragged back?  We give it a bit of time, until we’re sure all the effects are over. Maybe a week, surely no more than a month, right?  Once I’m sure he’s safe, I take the belt off of Cas, and he’s back to normal!”

            “What belt?”

            Dean winced.  He turned to face his angel, seeing Castiel frowning in the doorway.  “Cas.  I wanted to find out if this could work before I talked to you.  These trials, if Garth succeeds, then maybe there’s a way to keep you from getting taken back to Heaven?”

            Cas’s frown deepened.  He moved closer, looking past Dean at the book on the table.  Then his back stiffened.  “That’s the book Magnus used to enslave me, Dean!  What are you...?”  He turned around, looking hard at Dean.  “Dean?  What are you trying to do to me?!”

            “Cas?” Dean began, reaching for his angel.

            Cas quickly pulled away.

            Dean froze for a moment.  “Cas, baby, listen to me,” he pleaded.  “It’s not like you’ll be a slave again.  It doesn’t have to be chains, just the right sigils burned into a belt.  And you’d only have to wear it long enough to let the other angels get locked back into Heaven.  Then you take it off and all your powers are back, but you’re free!  Cas, if you do this, then Michael can’t touch you!”

            “You want to lock my powers away again,” Cas accused.  “You want to make me helpless again!”

            “It actually does have some merit,” Kevin offered weakly.  “It’s your power that would be used to pull you back into Heaven.  According to this, there’s a way to remove an angel’s grace, but that would be permanent because the grace would get pulled into Heaven when we closed the gates. But if it was locked down inside of you?”  He frowned at the tablet.  “We’d have to use the Angel Tablet to make the sigils stronger, really lock your powers down, but it could work?”

            “Make them stronger.”  Cas’s voice was flat.  “Really lock my powers down.  You mean you’d have to completely trap me inside of my vessel!”

            Dean quickly moved to embrace him.  “Only for a short time,” he promised.  “I’ll let you go as soon as it’s safe.”

            “Let go of me.”

            “Cas?”  Dean let him go.

            Cas immediately turned and started walking out.  “Sam’s ready to recast the spell to send us to Purgatory.  I came to get you for that.  We should be going.”

            “Cas!”  Dean clenched his fists at the sides of his head and groaned.  “He’s not going to let me do it!” he told Bobby.

            “He’s afraid, Dean,” Bobby called gently.  “He was trapped by those sigils for three years and look at what he went through!  Now he’s finally got his powers back, and you’re proposing to take them away again.”

            “Dean!”  Sammy’s voice, sounding irritated.

            Dean ignored him.  “Can you do it?” he asked Bobby and Kevin.  “Can you make this belt and reinforce it with sigils from the Angel Tablet?”

            The two exchanged a glance.  “Yeah, we probably could,” Kevin began, “but what are you going to do with it?”

            “Dean, if you force this on him, you’ll save him from Michael but you may just lose him forever anyway,” Bobby warned.

            “I don’t care.”  Dean’s voice was steady, not betraying his emotions.  “He gave up everything to save me.  Now I’m going to save him, if he likes it or not!  If that means forcing him, so be it.  I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to make amends if I have to.  But I’ll save him.  I’ve got to save him.”  Dean nodded.  “Make the belt.  Leave the rest to me.”

            “Be it on your head, Dean,” Bobby growled.  “We’ll make your damn belt.  Go help Garth find his boyfriend’s soul.”

***

            Dean gasped for air.  His heart pounded.  He had a painful cramp he ignored as he kept running.  And still the whistling booms were all around him as leviathan after leviathan fell from the sky.  “Son of a bitch!  What the hell has got these big mouthed bastards all stirred up?”

            “They must know that you and Benny took one of them out?” Sam suggested as he panted beside him.

            “Like they’d care!” Benny snapped.  “They’re interested in Hot Wings here!  Every clawed and fanged soul in Purgatory knows there’s an angel running around with two humans.  The two of you were bad enough, but throw Castiel in the mix?”

            Finding Benny had been surprisingly easy.  As soon as they’d arrived in Purgatory, Garth had literally sniffed him out.  Their reunion had been brief but loud, with Benny yelling at Garth in French and Garth sobbing and embracing him. Then they were attacked and had to fight their way out.  But they hadn’t seen any leviathan until they were near to the gate.  Now they were everywhere.

            “If it’s me they want, I should stay behind,” Cas declared.  “I’ll draw them away, give you a chance to escape.”

            “No way!” Dean yelled.

            “Dean, think about it,” Benny suggested.  “If Castiel is here, he won’t be drawn into Heaven.  We could hide him here, just like we hid you from the hellhounds.  Then we could come back and rescue him after I close the gates!”

            “Are you out of your mind?!”  Dean ducked as yet another leviathan crashed to the ground.  “If this shit keeps up, there won’t be anything left for me to come back for!  Cas!  Watch out!”

            Cas quickly turned and slashed at the leviathan leaping at him.  Sammy stepped up, shoved a shotgun into the monster’s gaping, toothy maw, and pulled the trigger.  The result was very messy.  “We’re almost out of ammo,” he warned, “and these things do not stay down!  I remember this one, Dean.  You hacked off its head not even half an hour ago!”

            “And that’s the second time I killed this one!” Garth called, hacking the head off another leviathan.

            “They’re going to keep coming,” Cas warned.  “Cast your spells, lock Benny and Garth’s souls into yourselves.  Then I’ll draw them away so you can get to the gate.”

            “And then what?” Dean challenged.  “Cas, we can’t get to this Anubis guy without you, and you said Anubis is the only one who can judge if a soul is worthy to enter Heaven.  We lose you, the whole house of cards goes down!  Now come on!”

            Cas frowned, considering the point.  “We’ll have to stay close, then.  The gateway is up ahead.  If we can get to the higher ground, I can try to stand them off while you and Sam cast your spell.  Then we can make a break for the gateway.”

            “Castiel!”  Garth stopped fighting and turned to face Cas.  “I haven’t known you long.  But I do know Dean.  And he gets that same look on his face when he’s bullshitting someone he’s about to try to pull a fast one on.  You have no intention of going through that gate!  You’re planning to stay here!”

            A charging leviathan interrupted him.  Irritated, Garth swung his blade, turning back to Cas before the body hit the ground.  “Listen to me.  I came here, risked all this, because I love Benny.  I believe with all my heart that he deserves a place in Heaven.  And I know, alright?  I know perfectly well that if I do get him into Heaven, he’ll be going alone.”

            “Garth!”

            Garth held up a hand towards Benny.  “I’m doing this because I believe with all my heart that Benny belongs in Heaven. That means I’ll spend eternity alone here.  And I’m fine with that!  I can live with it, as long as I know Benny is safe.  Now look at Dean.  Look at him, Castiel!  I know something happened between you two because you’ve barely said two words to each other since we came here.  But I also know that you love him, probably as much or more than I love Benny.  Do you think he can live with knowing he left you behind here?  Could you?”

            The angel straightened, his eyes locked on Dean.  Dean stared back.  He ignored the boom of Sammy’s shotgun or Benny’s shout as the fight continued.  “Please, Cas,” he pleaded. “Please.  Come home, and we’ll talk about this.  Please!”

            To Dean’s relief, the angel nodded.  “Alright.”

            It was close.  Two leviathan challenged Cas at once while Dean and Sammy were drawing the souls of their friends into their arms.  Cas fought hard, managed to defeat one.  But the other’s massive jaws clamped down hard on his shoulder.  The angel screamed, threads of ominous black spreading up his neck and cheek.

            “CAS!”  Barely waiting until Benny’s soul was set, Dean grabbed Sammy’s shotgun, pulled the trigger.

            Click.

            With a roar, Dean charged into the leviathan, shoulder first.  He knocked the surprised creature off of its prey. Then Sammy was there, and another body hit the ground.

            “Cas?  Cas!” Dean gathered the wounded angel.  Cas was moaning, clutching the ruin of his shoulder.  But at least the black lines were gone.  “Sam!  We gotta carry him!”

            “Alright!”  Sam grabbed the angel’s legs. 

            “Just leave me,” Cas urged.  “Save yourselves and Benny and Garth!”

            “I’m not leaving without you!”  Dean held tight under Cas’s arms, snatching up the angel blade to shove into his belt.  “Ready?”

            “Ready!  Run!”

            They ran as fast as they could, Sammy in the lead, towards the gate.  The whistling crashes never stopped.  Dean could practically feel them closing in.  But the gate was ahead.  And to his immense relief, the leviathan shrieked and fell back as it opened.

            A moment later, he and Sammy were collapsing, lowering Cas to the ground. “Cas?  Come on, baby, talk to me!”

            Cas groaned.  He stumbled to his feet, accepting the aide of the two brothers.  “I believe I will be unable to fly us to the bunker.  This injury will take time to heal.”

            “Then heal.”  Sammy was already pulling out his phone.  “We’ll get back to the bunker the old fashioned way, get Garth’s soul back into his body, and summon Anubis to us if we have to.”


	33. Worthy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Garth argues with Anubis over Benny's soul. Dean tries to talk Cas into wearing the belt

            “The souls of monsters do not belong in Heaven,” Anubis announced.

            “This one does.”

            “Nonsense.  Heaven and Hell are the final destinations for human souls.  Monsters go to Purgatory.  Why are you still arguing with me, werewolf?  You have no ground to stand on!”

            Dean wanted to punch the smug bastard in the face.  He sternly reminded himself that Garth had to be the one to complete this trial and focused on the task at hand.  His arm throbbed and burned where it held Benny’s soul.  Dean ignored it. 

            As usual, Cas wouldn’t meet his eyes.  The angel had lost consciousness shortly after they’d returned from Purgatory. He’d come around on the trip back, but had said very little.  Each day, Dean carefully cared for his wound.  To his great relief, each day it healed a bit more.  Now it only required a small bandage that Dean changed daily.

            Cas had already pulled his arm out of his shirt, giving Dean access to the wound. Dean removed the old bandage on his angel’s shoulder to inspect it.  “Looks good,” he said, seeing the smooth skin.  “Between the time it took us to get back to the bunker and when we were ready for the ritual to summon Anubis, it healed right up.”

            “Thank you for your care,” Cas said politely.  “It wouldn’t have healed as quickly if you hadn’t tended to it.”

            “Not a problem.”  Dean let his hand rest on the healed shoulder.

            Cas grew still.  He looked at Dean’s hand.  Then he finally met Dean’s eyes.

            As usual, gazing into them took Dean’s breath away.  The deep blue depths seemed to look right through him.  “I love you,” Dean blurted.  “I love you, Cas.  And that’s why I can’t let you be trapped in Heaven.  The idea of Michael torturing you until the end of time...?”

            “You don’t own me anymore, Dean,” Cas growled, turning away.  “I love you.  I can’t deny that.  But I won’t let you lock my powers down again.  I can’t, Dean.  I just can’t!”

            “And I can’t let Michael torture you.”

            “Then it appears you have a decision to make.”  Cas’s eyes went to Dean’s pocket, noting the telltale bulge.

            “Yeah.”  Dean swallowed hard.  “Cas, I don’t want to force you.  I don’t know if that’s even possible.  Once I have this belt on you, I could probably overpower you, but right now you could throw me across the room or smite me and then fly off.”

            “That’s true.”

            “But you won’t.”

            That earned him a frown.  “What makes you so sure?”

            “Because if you were going to do that, you wouldn’t have asked me what I was going to do.  You would have just done it.”

            “I’m waiting to see what you’ve got planned.”

            “What I’ve got planned is my life spent with you!”  Dean dared to take his hand.  “What I’ve got planned is to be at your side until I take my last breath. That’s why I can’t let you do this, Cas!”

            Cas’s eyes grew hard.  He quickly pulled his hand free.  “I won’t be enslaved again, Dean.  I know that’s not what you’re planning to do to me.  But you are planning to lock my powers away.  To bring me right back to that state where enslaving me is possible again!  You’ll make me helpless!  And you’re planning to use the same sigils that Magnus did when he first enslaved me!  How can you ask me to stand for that again?  To stand and allow you to render me as powerless as a human?  How can you put me through it?”

            “Because making you human is better than letting you get tortured by Michael!”

            “I can’t do it, Dean!” Cas exclaimed.  “I can’t!  I’m sorry. I know you believe what you’re saying.  But I can’t do it!  I can’t be made helpless like that again.  Not again!”

            Dean took Cas’s hand and brought it to his lips.  “Cas?  I love you.  And I’m human.  Now, Garth’s back there right now, willingly separating himself forever from Benny, because he loves Benny so much that he’s willing to suffer himself rather than let Benny stay in Purgatory.  You told us that each soul has its own Heaven, its own happy memories where it stays for eternity.  And that means Benny will be happy, because he’ll have Garth there.  But Garth, the real Garth?  He’s facing an eternity fighting alone in Purgatory!  He’s willing to do that.  Because he loves Benny to the point where Benny’s happiness is more important to him than his own.”

            “And you’re asking me to do the same?”

            “No,” Dean said simply.  “In this analogy, I’m Garth.  Because I know this will break you, Castiel.  I know you’ve been hurt too much, suffered too long, to be able to recover from something like this.  And I also know that, even if I save you?  You’re going to leave me in the end.”

            “If you force this on me, I will leave, Dean,” Cas warned.  “You’re right about that.  If you put this thing on me, lock my powers down again?  I will find a way to get it off with or without your help, and I will leave.  You will never see me again!”

            “I know,” Dean said simply.  “I know that if I do this against your will, it means I’ll lose you forever.  Losing you is going to tear me apart.  But I’ll also know that you’ll be safe.  You’ll be out there, somewhere, and maybe someday you’ll find someone else to love.  You’ll have a chance to be happy.  That’s all I can give you.”

            Cas seemed to wilt.  “So there’s nothing else I can say?  You’ve made up your mind about this?”

            “Yeah, Cas.  I have.”

            “And what will you do to keep me here now?”

            Dean stiffened.  “What do you mean?”

            “I mean you just told me what you intended to do to me.”  Cas was busy replacing his clothing.  Now he was getting to his feet.  “You’ve admitted what you’re going to do.  You even told me that you’re going to do it even though it will be against my will, knowing what it will do to me.  So tell me.  Why should I stay here and even give you the chance to try?  What’s to keep me from just flying away right now?”  He moved closer to Dean, looking hard at him. “How far are you willing to go, Dean Winchester?  Do you honestly believe that I haven’t seen that jug of holy oil that you’ve tried to hide under the table?”

            Dean grimaced.  He felt sick. “Cas.  Please.  This isn’t the time for this, ok?  I promise we’ll talk about this.  But not now.”

            Dean slowly moved forward until he could slip his arms around Cas.  Cas didn’t move.  Dean could feel his body trembling.  But Cas was pliant, offering no resistance when Dean kissed him.  “I love you.  I love you so much, Cas!  I’d go to Hell for you.”

            “I know.  We’ll talk, Dean.  I won’t promise anything more than that.”

            “That’s all I ask.”  Dean kissed him again.  Then the couple returned to where Garth was still talking to Anubis.

            Garth was finishing up what was no doubt an epic speech.  “Your job is to determine worth by the weight of the sins on a soul,” he reminded.  “Tell me.  Is being a monster a sin?  Since he returned from Purgatory, Benny hasn’t killed anyone, except Magnus, but he couldn’t really help that.  The guy was lying on the floor covered in blood.  Benny’s a vampire...”

            “This was the same Magnus who’d imprisoned you both?” Anubis asked.

            Garth frowned.  “Yeah, it was.  But other than him, Benny hasn’t touched another human being since he came back from Purgatory!  And he’s been working as a hunter, saving humanity from other monsters.  Now he’s saved the world from Lucifer and his demons! If he was human, we wouldn’t even be having this conversation.  The angels would be lining the streets to throw him a parade!”

            “But he is a monster,” Anubis pointed out yet again.  “A vampire.  He’s a murder, he’s...”

            “Fine!” Garth yelled, losing his temper.  “Bring out your scales.  Weigh his sin.  If the sin of being a monster really outweighs the good he’s done sealing the gates of Hell?  Then maybe it’s better if he doesn’t go to Heaven!”

            Dean heard Cas gasp, saw Anubis straighten.  “Very well,” the Egyptian god announced.  “I will weigh his soul.  If his virtues outweigh his sin, then I will send him to Heaven.  But if the weight of his sins is greater than his virtues?  By submitting to my judgement, he will be condemned not to Purgatory, but to Hell.  Do you agree with this?”

            Dean sucked in his breath.  He opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, Garth had already spoken.  “I agree,” he announced.  “Make your judgement.”

            Anubis raised his abacus, and the black and white beads began to rapidly shift.

            Benny Lafitte’s was a dark soul.  Dean could have told anyone that.  In his life he had been truly monstrous, preying on humans at will.  It wasn’t until he’d fallen in love and his subsequent problems with the Old Man that Benny had finally had a change of heart. He’d fought at Dean’s side in Purgatory. Then he’d become a hunter, and eventually had died to close the gates of Hell.  But that act of redemption had come after he’d fed his monstrous nature once again.  As evil as Magnus had been, he’d been a human being.  Even Dean had to admit that ending the magician had been more than a little vengeance for Benny’s own imprisonment.  And nothing could excuse the way Benny had sold Cas to Magnus.  Even as he watched the flashing black and white beads, Dean realized with dismay which way the tally would end.

            Suddenly, Garth reached out and grabbed hold of the abacus.  Instantly, the beads were shifting once again.

            “What have you done?!” Anubis yelled.

            “Benny and I were united by a cupid,” Garth explained.  “He made us soulmates.  Therefore, our souls are connected.  So if you weigh one, you weigh us both!”

            Anubis looked pissed, but it was too late.  Of all the hunters Dean had known, no one was purer in heart than Garth Fitzgerald IV.  As dark as Benny’s soul was, the light in Garth’s was more than enough to tip the scales. When the beads stopped shifting, the white obliviously outweighed the black.  Garth beamed.  “Looks like Benny’s about to get himself a halo!”

            Anubis was glaring at Garth.  “Very well,” he growled.  “As I agreed, I will allow the soul of your vampire to pass through to Heaven.  Now release me!”

            “If we do, how do we know you won’t just go and leave Benny’s soul behind?” Sammy questioned.

            The Egyptian god rolled his eyes in irritation.  “He has been weighted and deemed worthy.  His soul will ascend to Heaven when it is released.  Now free me!”

            Bobby nodded and released the god, who promptly disappeared.  “Alright, Dean.  Let Benny go.”

            Dean already had a blade ready.  He sliced into his arm.  Benny’s soul immediately poured out.  It curved up towards the sky and vanished.  “Safe journey, brother,” Dean whispered.

            Then Garth collapsed.

            Finding himself suddenly surrounded, the werewolf shook his head.  “I’m alright,” he groaned.  “And Benny’s in heaven, so that’s the second trial done, right, Kevin?”

            Until now, Kevin had been hiding in a corner, fearful of the wrath of an ancient god.  Now he nodded.  “Yes.  Now all that’s left is to restore the faith of a fallen angel.”

            “And we only know of one of those,” Bobby said, looking at Cas.

            Cas looked around, suddenly finding himself the center of attention.   “I already told you it won’t work with me,” he growled.  “Nothing can restore my faith after what was done to me.  Especially not now, when there is a ring of holy oil on the floor, and the man whose soul I fell to save is coming at me with that!”

            The angel’s finger pointed accusingly at Dean.  Dean was coming towards him, looking determined.  A belt covered with Enochian sigils was in his hands.


	34. Faith

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean risks everything to try to save Cas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this story has been a hell of a journey. Along with writing my first and last plotty story? I went through marriage counseling, got treated for an eating disorder I've struggled with since I was a kid, faced up to some serious shit from my past and finally got to know my son. Don't think anyone will blame me for taking a knee. Thx for sticking with me, sorry for all the drama, and I hope you like how this ends!
> 
> One last shout-out. If there is one person who held us all together through all my shit lately, it's BlueRainbow. You are our Castiel, gripping me tight and raising me from Perdition more times than any sane person should. And if my prick brother hadn't married you, I totally would have. Even with the stupid porn stash. Love you, bro.

            “Dean, take it easy,” Garth warned.  He accepted help from Bobby and Sammy and got to his feet.  “Along with the fact that doing this against Cas’s will is completely and utterly wrong?  Don’t you think that I have my work cut out for me enough without giving him another reason not to have any faith?!”

            Dean ignored him.  His eyes were locked with Castiel’s.  He’d unrolled the belt and was holding it in his hands.  Cas took a cautious step backwards.  “No.  Leave me alone, Dean,” the angel pleaded.  “I can’t be locked down and trapped again.  Not again!”

            “What do you think Michael will do to you?” Dean argued.  “The first thing he’ll do is throw you in a cage.  Then he’ll spend the rest of eternity taking out all his frustration over me out on you!”

            “Which is precisely what I have come to expect of him,” Cas declared.  He took another step back as Dean inched forward. “I do not expect it of you!”  His eyes moved, accusing each man in the room in turn.  “I trusted you.  But you knew about this!  Bobby, Kevin, I heard Dean talking about this before we went to purgatory.  You must have made that belt for him while we were away.  And Sam, Garth?  How could you not know that the floor had a large circle of holy oil on it?  You knew, all of you!  I trusted you, and you’ve betrayed me!”

            “Cas, listen to me,” Dean pleaded.  “They didn’t know about the holy oil because I did that while they were working on the glyphs to hold Anubis.  And I asked Bobby and Kevin to make this belt, but I’m the one who’s got it. This is all on me.”

            “How could you?”  Cas moved back another step, further increasing the distance between himself and Dean.  “How could you do this to me?!”

            “Because Bobby’s right.  You are the only fallen angel we can access for the final Angel Tablet trial.  We need you, Cas!  You need to at least hear Garth out, give him a chance.  But if Garth succeeds?  If he is, by some miracle, able to restore your faith?  That means you’ll be dragged back to Heaven!  The only way to keep that from happening is to lock down your powers, any way we can.  You have to let me do this!”

            “I have to?”  Cas was scowling fiercely.  He took another step back.  “You can’t command me, Dean!  I’m not your slave anymore, and I won’t let you put me into a position where I can be enslaved again!”

            “Do you honestly believe I would let that happen?” Dean challenged.  “I would die before I let anyone touch you.  That includes Michael!”

            He was still moving, inching closer and closer to Cas.  Cas moved back once more and found himself backed up against a table.  He quickly moved sideways to get around the table.  Then he stiffened, realizing he’d just stepped into the circle of holy oil. “Stay away from me, Dean!” he warned. “Stop, now!  I won’t let you do this to me, and if you try to force me? I’ll leave!  I’ll take my chances with the angels until you find another fallen angel to restore faith in.  Leave me alone!”

            “Cas?” Sammy tried.  “Do you know any other fallen angels?”

            Cas immediately slumped.  “No.”

            “Then we need you,” he urged.  “I don’t agree with what Dean trying to force you, but we’ve come so far!  After everything we’ve already done, everything you’ve been through to get us to this point?  Won’t you stay and let us try to finish?”

            Cas seemed torn.  He looked frantically around.  But his eyes snapped to Dean and his hand went up in warning when Dean took another step closer.  “Stop!”

            “I love you, angel,” Dean called.  “I would never, ever hurt you!  Please, just let me put this on you?  You’ve still got your book, right?  That means these sigils won’t have any effect on you!  Just let me put this belt on you, and you can decide for yourself when to let it take effect.”  He managed a smile.  “No one is ever going to enslave you again.  You’ll be free!  No one will ever put any chains on you, or...”

            Cas frantically shook his head.  “You don’t understand!  Don’t you see that the sigils on that belt are far stronger chains than any you attached to my collar?  You want to lock me inside of my vessel!  Make me weak and helpless again!  You remember how I was?  Remember how easily you could drag me away when you took me on that first hunt?  You never actually needed to chain me up. That was just for convenience! You needed no chains to control me because you could simply overpower me!  My strength was gone!”

            “I get it.”  It was Garth. The werewolf was back on his feet. Now he swayed slightly as he came closer to the traumatized angel.  He stopped some distance away and raised his arms.  “Look at me, Castiel.  I was never a fighter.  I tried my best, but I couldn’t be much of a hunter because, well?”  He indicated his short, thin frame.  “I got thrown around by monsters and humans alike!  Then I became a werewolf.  I was finally strong, but look at how well that’s turned out? Even my own kind despise me because I’m a hunter!  So I know, more than anyone else here, what you must be feeling.  You and I?  We’re both hated by our own kind and reliant on the kindness of humans.  The Winchesters have silver blades and silver bullets all over this bunker.  At any time, they could end me.  But they won’t.  I trust them that they won’t!”

            “I find it decidedly hard to trust when Dean is coming after me with that belt!”

            “But see, I get that, too,” Garth argued.  “You’re afraid of that belt because it could make you helpless. Sam’s got a silver blade hanging off of his belt right now.  I know it could kill me.  But I also know I have nothing to fear from it.  That belt?  You’re afraid of it, because you remember being helpless and afraid.  But there’s something more to consider, Castiel.  You need to stop thinking about the belt, and start thinking about exactly who it is that’s holding it.”  Garth looked down.  “I know Dean thinks I did this on purpose.  That I got myself turned so I could help save him from Hell.  I didn’t walk into that werewolf den with that in mind, but maybe I wasn’t as careful as I could have been?  The thing is, after I was turned, I knew that coming back here would quite likely mean the end of me.  And here’s Sam, with his silver blade!  I should fear that blade because of what it can do to me.  But I’m not afraid, because that’s Sam who’s got it. I’m not afraid because I trust Sam.”

            Garth was rocked by a harsh cough.  No one said a word.  He wiped at his mouth with a kleenex, grimaced at the sight of blood, and quickly shoved it into his pocket.  “I know you’re afraid of being weak.  Of not being able to protect yourself.  But you’ll be strong again, Castiel.  When this is all over, that belt comes off and you’re back to normal.  And meanwhile, Dean, Sam, and Bobby?  They’ll take care of you.  They’ll protect you, just like they’re doing with Kevin over there. You’ll be able to fly again.  All you have to do is trust Dean for a little while.”  He smiled. “I know it’s hard for you. Probably the hardest thing you’ve ever done, even harder than what you went through as a slave.  Because this time you’d be choosing it.  I know you’re afraid, but you don’t need to be.  This is Dean.  If you love him, then you need to trust him.  That’s all you have to do!  Trust him!  If you don’t, then best case is you’re alone and hunted for eternity.  If you do, then he stays with you, watches over you for a little while, and stays by your side for the rest of his life.  Isn’t that worth it?”

            Cas looked unsure.  He shifted, his eyes again darting around, considering what Garth had said.

            “Cas?” Dean called, moving forward again.  “Come on, buddy.  Trust me. I won’t hurt you.  I love you, angel.  I would never hurt you, and I know now that I can’t just force this on you. Please.  Please, let me do this!”

            Indecision clouded the angel’s features.  He eyed Dean, noting the proximity of the belt to his body.  One more step, and Dean would be able to reach him. But when Dean dared to take that step, Cas didn’t move.  Dean reached forward, wrapping the belt around his waist.  Cas didn’t fight or protest.  He stood still, watching as Dean fastened the belt around him.

            Dean finished and gently touched the angel’s cheek.  “Thank you,” he whispered.  “Thank you so much for trusting me!”

            Cas gave him a small smile.  Then he leaned forward, resting his head on Dean’s shoulder.  Dean held him tight and breathed a sigh of relief.

            Suddenly the bunker went haywire.  Alarms sounded.  Lights flashed.  The ground shook.  Kevin screamed.  “What is happening?!!”

            “It’s the trial,” Sammy realized.  “Garth, you completed the trial!”

            “What?!”  Garth looked around, confused.  “How? The trial was to restore the faith of a fallen angel.  But I haven’t done anything to restore Castiel’s faith?”

            “Yes, you did!” Bobby yelled.  “You restored his faith in DEAN!  You completed the final Angel Tablet trial, and now the gates of Heaven are closing!”

            Dean looked at his angel in horror.  Cas’s eyes were blazing with power.  Already, his body was starting to glow.  “No, no no!  Cas, your book!  Where’s your book?!”

            But Cas couldn’t answer.  His head lolled back.  His arms fell limply to his sides.  The glow grew brighter.  Right before Dean’s eyes, his angel was being ripped out of his vessel, dragged right out of his arms.  No. “Help me!” he yelled, frantically digging in Cas’s pockets.  “We gotta get the book off of him, or the sigils won’t be able to hold him!”

            “It’s in his trench coat!” Kevin yelled.  He raced forward, digging his hand into one of Cas’s pockets.  “I saw him reach in and fiddle with it while you were talking.  Here!”

            Kevin proudly held up Cas’s book.  Dean snatched it and hurled it across the room.

            Cas cried out and thrashed in Dean’s arms.  The sigils on his belt blazed.  Then they began to smoke.  “Bobby?!” Dean yelled.  “What the hell is going on?!”

            “It’s not enough!” Bobby warned.  “The sigils aren’t strong enough to hold him.  We need something more!”

            “Here!”

            Dean turned, saw Sammy with a lighter.  Dean’s eyes darted to the circle of holy oil they were standing in. He grinned and clung tightly to his angel.  “Good! Light it up!  Hurry!”

            Sammy darted forward.  Almost immediately, flames roared to life in a circle around Dean.  He held tight to his angel, hearing Cas whimper.  “I’m here.  I’ve got you!  Please, Cas! Please, stay with me!  Hang on, please!”

            “Dean?”  Cas squirmed in Dean’s arms.  He looked around.  His frantic eyes took in the circle of holy flames.  His hands moved to the belt around his waist.  Then he looked at Dean.  The fear in the blue depths tore into Dean’s heart, even as he gratefully realized that the holy light had gone out of them.  “It’s me,” Dean soothed.  “It’s just me, Cas.  I’m here. I’ve got you.  You’re safe.  Trust me. You’re safe.”

            For a time, Cas just stared at him.  The angel made a small noise.  His head lowered, coming to rest on Dean’s shoulder.  His arms encircled Dean.  “I trust you,” he whispered.

            It may just have been the best moment of Dean’s life.  He held tight to Cas, kissed him again and again.  “Thank you.  I love you so much!  Thank you for trusting me!”

            “I love you, too.”

            As abruptly as it started, the shaking stopped.  The alarms died down.  The power was restored.  But Dean barely noticed.  All he knew was that Cas was still in his arms.  His angel looked incredibly weary.  But he was here, solid and warm, his head on Dean’s shoulder and his arms around Dean.  Trust.

            “Dean?”

            Bobby’s voice was soft.  Dean turned and saw Garth lying on the floor in the older hunter’s arms.  The werewolf’s eyes were dazed.  His breath came fast.  But he smiled at Dean.  “Don’t you move,” he warned.  “You stay right there and hold your angel, Dean.  Hold him until you run out of oil, just to be safe!”

            “I will, Garth.”  Dean swallowed hard.  “Garth, when this is over, we can go into Purgatory after you.  Then we can go back to Anubis.  He can...”

            “No need.”  Cas didn’t raise his head from Dean’s shoulder.  He simply turned it to look at Garth.  “The cupid made you soulmates, Garth.  And soulmates share a heaven.  You’re not going to Purgatory.  You’re going to join Benny.”

            “Really?”  Garth’s face was grey.  But his familiar smile was splitting his face.  “I’m going to Benny?”

            “Yes,” Cas confirmed.  “From the moment you secured his place in Heaven, you also secured your own.”

            “Good!”

            Once again, it took Dean a moment to register that his friend had stopped breathing. When Bobby gently reached up and closed Garth’s eyes, Dean felt as if his heart would break.

            But Cas’s arms tightened around him.  The angel turned his head again, leaning heavily on the hunter.  “Dean?” he whispered.  “I’m so tired!”

            “Rest, angel.”  Was he talking to the literal angel in his arms, or the one on the floor who had made this possible?  Didn’t matter.  Dean carefully sat down, bringing Cas with him and pulling the former slave into his lap. He turned his own face, using Cas’s hair to hide any traitorous tears that managed to escape his eyes.  It worked well enough.  At least no one seemed to notice anything.

            By the time Sammy, Bobby, and Kevin began Garth’s funeral pyre, Dean realized that Cas had fallen asleep in his arms.  That drove a spike of guilt into his stomach.  By using sigils from the Angel Tablet, he’d locked Cas’s powers down to the point that he needed sleep like a human.  Would he need to eat, too?  Most likely.  The beautiful, powerful being in his arms had been reduced to little more than a human. Dean didn’t care.  Cas was here.  He was safe in Dean’s arms.  That was all that mattered.

            It took two long days to burn off all the holy oil.  The length of time required some uncomfortable improvisations involving buckets being passed through the flames and a complete lack of dignity.  Cas said very little.  He spent most of his time sleeping, usually across Dean’s lap with Dean’s arms around him. Dean refused to give in to sleep.  Part of him feared that if he let down his guard, Cas would somehow be drawn away after all.  Paranoia helped Dean maintain constant watchfulness.  He kept a close eye on the flames, calling for whoever was in attendance to add more oil when they seemed to be dying down.

            Meanwhile, Kevin was reporting tales of confused people believed missing, returning to their loved ones dazed and confused and full of incredulous tales of angels and signs from Heaven.  Fascinating. Dean was far more interested in when the reports stopped.  After a few days, they did.

            The hunters thanked Kevin and said goodbye.  The young advanced placement student would be given a stolen vehicle and allowed to return to his home.  What he would say when he got there was anyone’s guess.  Didn’t matter.  Kevin was safe.  With the gates of Heaven and Hell closed, souls could still pass to their natural destinations.  But humanity would never be troubled by angels or demons again.

            What would that mean for Dean and Cas?  When Dean died, could Cas follow?  And if he did, wouldn’t he fall back into Michael’s hands?  He’d tried to ask his angel, but Cas was sleepy again.  “Dean, you just stopped the apocalypse,” he’d grumpily pointed out.  “Before you sealed Heaven, you sealed Hell.  That was far more than Michael was able to accomplish.  Then Michael failed to get you or to prevent Heaven’s gates from closing. I suspect he’s very unpopular right now. I wouldn’t be surprised to find out he’s currently occupying a cell in the dungeon.  The last thing he has to worry about is the two of us!”  He reached up and squeezed Dean’s shoulder. “Dean.  Garth’s plan to use the cupid to unite the two of us as soulmates never would have worked.  Because we were already soulmates.  Soulmates share a heaven.  So when you die, I’ll go with you.  And we’ll be safe, together in your heaven.  Now, will you please let me sleep?!”

            It helped.  A bit. But when the last of the holy oil was used, Dean anxiously watched the flames flicker and die.  He held so tightly to his angel that Cas was squirming. “Dean!  You’re hurting me!  Are you trying to hold me here through brute strength?!”

            It was silly.  Dean knew it was silly.  But that didn’t stop the sigh of relief when the flames finally went out and Cas was still safe in his arms.

            The two had already talked about what they would do when the flames died. Without a word, they got up and headed to the showers.  Getting out of his soiled clothes felt amazing.  Getting Cas out of his clothes was even better.  Sliding Cas’s shirt out from under the belt was simple enough. The belt would be perfectly safe. The sigils were burned into the surface of the leather.  But Dean saw Cas frown a bit as he looked down at it.  His hand came up, traced one of the sigils.

            “Not long,” Dean promised.  “Give me at least a couple of weeks, just to be sure.  Then we’ll take it off.”

            To Dean’s delight, Cas’s hand immediately dropped.  “Alright,” he said simply.

            Trust.

            But then Cas was naked, his skin covered in goose bumps that Cas carefully inspected as Dean led him into the shower.  Since Cas had no idea what to do, Dean carefully soaped and scrubbed them both.  The way Cas was watching him as he worked made Dean interested in more.  But no.  To try to initiate sex while Cas was still so vulnerable was wrong, and too much for the former slave.  Dean kept his baser urges in check.  Soon. They’d be together soon.

            For two weeks, Dean kept himself under strict control.  He took care of Cas.  He made sure Cas ate, then made sure he didn’t overeat after one unfortunate incident.  He held the angel as he slept.  Sleeping was still how Cas spent most of his time.  He walked around looking slightly doped.  “It’s the sigils,” he’d explained.  “I’m so cut off from my own power that I almost feel like I’m underwater!”

            Guilt made Dean’s head hang.  But Cas was there to lift it back up.  “It’s alright,” Cas said as he kissed Dean.  “It’s worth it, if I can stay with you.”

            Finally, the day came.

            “We’ll try just touching you with your book first,” Bobby explained.  “Just a brush.  After that, we’ll try longer.  As long as you don’t seem in danger of getting yanked out, you can hold it. Then we get the belt off of you.”

            “Alright.”

            The first brush of Cas’s book made his eyes blaze and sent Dean into a panic. He dove on his angel, driving Cas to the ground and trying to cover him with his body.  Cas squeaked in protest.  Dean was too spooked to let him up.  The next brush happened while the irritated angel was still on the ground.  But with more prolonged contact, the light in Cas’s eyes faded.  Cas grabbed his book, shoved it into his pocket and effortlessly lifted a still-worried Dean off of himself with one arm.  “I’m alright,” he announced.  “I believe it’s safe to remove this belt.  And if you don’t mind?  I’d appreciate it if you incinerated it.”

            The practical, pessimistic side of Dean wanted to protest.  Instead, he pulled the belt off of Cas and marched to the incinerator.  Seeing the strip of leather burn felt oddly freeing.

            Cas’s hand slipped into his.  “It’s over.”

            “Yes.”  Dean looked over, amused to see Cas was once again in his suit, tie, and trench coat. “You know, that look is getting pretty old, Cas.”

            Cas frowned down at himself.  “You don’t like it?”

            “Nah, I like it.  It suits you.”  He transferred Cas’s hand to his other hand and put an arm around the angel’s shoulders.

            “Is he still a bitch?” Cas asked.

            Dean blinked.  “Huh?”

            “Sam.  Is he still a bitch?  Are you still upset about him spending a million dollars on me?”

            Dean blinked again.  Then he laughed.  “Cas? That was easily the best million dollars I have ever spent.  And I’d spend another million a million times over for you.”

            “I’ll be sure to remind you of that the next time you act like an assbutt.”

            Dean laughed.  “Ok, deal!”

            Something soft pressed against Dean.  Dean looked back to see one of the ebony wings had cupped itself around him. Cas was using it to press Dean into his side.  Dean chuckled.  “You’re amazing, do you know that?  I still don’t know why you did all this for me!”

            “I’d do it again,” Cas announced.  “A million times over.”


End file.
